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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
in 2011 with funding from 
The Library of Congress 



http://www.archive.org/details/memoriesoflatterOOtrot 



MEMOIRS 



OF 



THE LATTER YEARS OF 



THE RIGHT HONOURABLE 



CHARLES JAMES FOX 



Di Cui la fama ancor nel mondo dura 

E durera quanto '1 moto, lontana. Dante. 



BY JOHN BERNARD TROTTER, Esq, 

L.ATE PRIVATE SEtKETARi' lOMR. TOX. 



PHILADELPHIA.' 



PUBLISHED BY SAMUEL R. FISHER, JuK 

NO, 30 SOUTH FOURTH-STREET. 

A. Fagan, Printer. 

1812. 



PREFACE. 



IN laying before the public a work, purporting to 
consist of memoirs, or biographical sketches, of a consider- 
able part of the life of the late Right Honourable Charles 
yames Fox^ I have no claim to approbation for a complete 
and entire work, as my acquaintance with that illustrious 
character did not commence till the evening of his days. 
Consequently, I have not attempted to give a full account 
of his actions, or life : others may hereafter accomplish 
that task ; mine is at present a less important and less ex- 
tensive one. 

I knew Mr. Fox, however, at a period when his glories 
began to brighten, — when a philosophical and noble de» 
termination had, for a considerable time, induced him to 
renounce the captivating allurements and amusements of 
fashionable life, — and when resigning himself to rural 
pleasures, domestic retirement, and literary pursuits, he 
became a new man, or rather, more justly may I say, he 
returned to the solid enjoyment of a tranquil, yet refined, 
rural life, from which he had been awhile withdrawn, but 
had never been alienated. 

The more we consider the nature of Mr. Fox's educa- 
tion, (which, according to modern views, might be deem- 
ed by many an excellent one, but had too much of incite- 



IV 



ment and too little of discipline,) the more we must won- 
der at, and respect the firmness and self-correction which 
he evinced during the last half of his life. Educated by a 
father, who early saw, and admired, the talents of his son, 
he was too soon brought forward into politics, and into a 
responsible situation. The great models of antiquity were 
not sufficiently considered ; but the natural partiality of the 
late lord Holland goes far in excuse for his error respect- 
ing the education of his accomplished son. He did only 
what thousands have done, and are doing, unfavourable as 
are such errors, to the complete and advantageous deve- 
lopement of a great character. The mind, like the oak, 
does not, or cannot, attain full perfection, but by slow de- 
grees. All premature shoots, until the leading roots have 
deeply and firmly seized upon the soil, are injurious; and 
exhaust, or enfeeble the nascent tree. It must be granted, 
too, that a commercial and luxurious nation, however 
great, is less favourable to the production of so extraordi» 
nary a character as that of Mr. Fox, than one in which 
simplicity and disinterestedness would be the prevailing 
features. 

The powerful weight of mercantile interests in the coun- 
cils of the English people, is decidedly adverse to the ger- 
mination, expansion, and glory of genius. The noblest 
and highest motives impelled Mr. Fox, in vain, to put 
forth his powers, to excite his country to what is wisest 
and most glorious,— to advise with prophetic force, and 
to argue with irresistible demonstration. He was not 
heard with interest, because there was nothing congenial 
in his arguments ; he was neither applauded nor reward- 
ed, because his auditors had no faculty by which to esti- 
mate his merits ; and he returned home weary and dis- 
gusted. The views of mercenary politicians coincide 
rather with the declaiming arrogance of any man who has 
bartered the national welfare for mercantile support ; who 
has strengthened his party by the artificial influence of 
commerce ; and, having satisfied his thirst for domination. 



leaves his country involved, his party in difBculties, and 
commerce itself languishing and exhausted, by the efforts 
which its avarice had tempted it to make, and which his 
incitements had contributed to extend. 

There is a strong similarity, not only in the style of 
oratory, but in the fortunes of Demosthenes and Fox. 
The oratory of both was plain, but of mighty strength. 
Each appears to have thought more of his subject than his 
audience, — to have burst forth with demonstrative reason- 
ing and facts,' — and trusting to the power of truth on the 
hearts of patriots, to have given the wisest counsels, in 
the strongest and most vigorous manner. Demosthenes 
had the great advantage of speaking to a large and inde- 
pendent popular assembly. Fox spoke to one of too aris- 
tocratic, as well as commercial a cast, to expect the same 
effects from his eloquence. 

I have often admired the sweetness and equanimity of 
his temper in returning from the unavailing war of words, 
in which he bore so supereminent, but fruitless a part. 
Though fatigued with so many barren struggles, although 
he distinctly saw the ruin preparing by a rash and obsti- 
nate minister, for his country, no expression of bitterness 
ever escaped him in private life ; the name of that minis- 
ter, was rarely, if at all, noticed by him, and never with 
acrimony. His determination, when he seceded from par- 
liament, to retire much from public life, until the misguid- 
ed people saw the errors into which they were plunging, 
certainly arose from this hopeless scene of useless debate, 
— a determination which I have never ceased to regret he 
did not scrupulously adhere to, as suitable to the grandeur 
of his character, his simplicity, and his indifference for 
power; at once beneficial to his health, and promising 
ultimate advantage to the state. 

Having enjoyed his private friendship, and been ad~ 
mitted into his domestic circle, at this period, I may be 



VI 



asked wlrat were his preparations for debate ? I answer,— 
none /—I have often known him, when a debate was ex= 
pected of importance, pursuing his usual studies, the day 
before, in poetry, history, botany, or natural history ; his 
conversation was the same ; his walks, and his inspection 
of his little farm, were unchanged ; nor, as far as came 
within my observation, did he abstract himself from his 
family, or ordinary society an hour, or a moment, for any 
preparation when great debates were impending. 

His despatches, which were compositions nothing infe- 
rior to his orations, and, I believe, quite sui generis in 
England, he mentally composed before they were com- 
Biitted to paper, when he wrote or dictated them with 
great facility. They, as well as his orations, were digest- 
ed, I think, in a few moments of silent rapid reflection, 
and they then gave him no further anxiety. His memory 
was so exquisitely powerful, that it supplied him with 
every siibject matter he required for study; and when 
Qther men were obliged to recur to books, he had only to 
apply to the sources of his mind, and proceed in his ar- 
gument or composition. 

Lord Holland, in his preface to Mr. Fox's Historical 
Fragment, has dwelt rather too much upon his uncle's so- 
licitude as to historical composition : Mr. Fox doubtless 
felt anxious to keep it distinct, as he ought, from oratorical 
delivery ; but I am inclined to think, that historic matter 
flowed from him, as his despatches did, with facility and 
promptness. His manuscript of the Fragment, of which 
a good part is in his own hand-writing, has but very few 
corrections or alterations ; and his great anxiety (and very 
justly} appears to me to have regarded facts, rather than 
style. I differ from the noble editor with extreme regret 
on this point, as I have found myself obliged to do in the 
following work on some others. Mr. Fox's singular mo- 
desty and sincerity may have led him to express distrust 
of himself; but his powers were too commanding to ad- 



Vll 



mit of hesitation or difficulty in any species of composi- 
tion to which he directed them. 

His letters are perfect in their kind, more agreeable 
( as they have nothing of his egotism) than those of Ciceroj 
and more solid than those of Madame de Sevigne. Those 
which I have been able to present to the reader are mo- 
dels of English composition, as well as valuable deposito- 
ries of the critical opinions of Mr. Fox upon the most 
excellent authors of ancient and modern times. I am 
tempted to think, from the elegance and conciseness of all 
his compositions, that his historical fragment was written 
under the disadvantage of his frame of mind, being some- 
what affected by a tinge of melancholy, which produced in 
some parts a certain diffuseness, not otherwise likely to 
have taken place. Public affairs were so manifestly tend- 
ing to a crisis when he wrote, and the minister had so 
much weakened and impaired the constitution, that Mr. 
Fox could not but grieve^ — for his feelings were warm, 
and his mind of a truly patriotic cast; and it was ex- 
tremely natural, that unsuspected by himself, something 
of this disposition of mind should be imparted to the work 
he had undertaken at that period. At such a time, and 
in that state of mind, travelling would have afforded bettey 
occupation to Mr. Fox than v/riting history; but from that 
he was precluded : he was shut out from the continent by 
the French war, and in having recourse to history, (still 
continuing his exertions in favour of liberty) he shewed 
the generous struggles of a noble mind to serve his coun- 
try and posterity in the only way left open to him ; and if 
a shade of melancholy pervades it, the source from whence 
it certainly sprung (for he was easy in circumstances, and 
truly happy in domestic life ) is the most honourable and 
venerable sentiment which can exist in the human breast, 
«— grief for a wronged and unhappily misguided country ! 

In one grand point all his compositions, his letters, des- 
patches, historical work, and orations, beautifuUv harmon- 



Vlll 



ize,-— I mean, in genuine Christian love for mankind, as 
fellow-creatures and friends. This will be found the uni- 
form impulse through Mr. Fox's glorious life. In the 
work I offer to my readers, imperfect as it is, that great 
principle will appear to be clearly developed. 

It is singular, or at least is worthy of remark, that, al- 
though Mr. Fox knew nothing, or very little, of geometry, 
no man spoke or wrote with more precision ; his demon- 
strations were always mathematically correct and conclu- 
sive, and his language was very exact, and free from all 
redundancy. That noble science indubitably aids and im* 
proves the powers of reasoning, and is of immense utility 
in life ; yet Mr. Fox derived no assistance from it. There 
can, however, be little doubt that his progress in it would 
have been rapid, and that his logical faculty would have 
been strengthened by it. About five or six years before 
his death, he expressed much regret to me at his ignorance 
of mathematics, and seemed then inclined to turn his atten- 
tion to those sciences, and in particular to astronomy. It 
is very probable, that as he appeared to testify a strong 
inclination for mathematics, he would have applied t© 
them, if he had continued in retirement. 

His return to politics prevented this design, and sus- 
pended his history. The words of the noble editor of 
the Fragment are very remarkable as to Mr. Fox forego- 
ing his original intention of retiring for a time from pub- 
lic life. " The remonstrances, however, of those friends, 
for whose judgment he had the greatest deference, ulti- 
mately prevailed." Here is a proof, from the authority 
of lord Holland, how reluctant Mr. Fox was to abandon 
his intention. I know that the basis of his determination, 
was a solid and grand one ; that occasionally at his break- 
fast table we had a little discussion on this point, and that 
Mrs. Fox and myself uniformly joined in recommending 
retirement, until the people felt properly upon public affairs, 
I am sorry to be compelled to say, that the friends who 



" ultiinately prevailed," calculated very ill upon political 
matters, and did not sufficiently estimate the towering and 
grand character of Mr. Fox. 

Lord Holland also says, in his preface, " The cicum- 
stances which led him once more to take an active part in 
public discussions, are foreign to the purposes of this pre- 
face." — Yet, either these circumstances should have been 
explained, or not at all touched upon. I know, that the 
circumstance which Mr. Fox had made indispensable in 
his original determination, had not occurred. A partial 
change of ministry had nothing to do with that general 
sensation of the people which Mr. Fox had looked to as 
the proper moment for his coming forward with benefit to 
his sovereign and his country. 

There is an idea which will, perhaps, very much eluci- 
date the point, and make things plainer than the circumlo- 
cution of lord Holland. The party wanted a leader / It 
is very obvious to me, that to this very want may be attri- 
buted the solicitations which "ultimately prevailed" against 
Mr. Fox's better and undistorted judgment. I am happy 
to testify, that Mrs. Fox constantly endeavoured, as far 
as I had opportunity of observing, to fortify and confirm 
Mr. Fox in his wise and noble resolution ; and persevered, 
even in despite of the warmth of party, which sometimes 
blamed her for detaining him in retirement. 

It is, however, with considerable pain I have been led 
to condemn lord Holland's forbearance and silence on this 
very interesting point, (certainly far more so than Mr. 
Fox's private opinion as to the minutiae of style) but there 
is something so august in his character, and my opportu- 
nities of knowing its value, were such rare ones, that I 
bend to the necessity of stating historic truth, as far as I 
can, even though forced to differ with the noble lord, who 

INHERITS HIS NAME AND VIRTUES. 



Before I conclude this introductory preface to the* work 
I have been undertaken, I feel it necessary to advert to 
the concluding pages of the noble editor juSt mentioned. 
I would willingly suppress all private opinion, where I can 
do so with justice to my subject; but the inverse mode of 
reasoning to that adopted by his lordship, appears to me 
to be the most just. Are the present race to go to the 
grave without further knowledge of Mr. Fox than that 
conveyed in the Preface to the Fragment ? lord Holland 
says, 

" Those who admired Mr. Fox in public, and those 
who loved him in private, must naturally feel desirous 
that some memorial should be preserved of the great and 
good qualities of his head and heart." 

Ought not this to be conclusive with all that great man's 
admirers and friends? His lordship justly complains of 
false accounts, and that very circumstance points out the 
necessity of something genuine and authentic ? Every one 
will, not judge so clearly as lord Holland | because, that 
they do not know so much of Mr, Fox as he and his 
other intimate friends. The Preface says, " the objections 
to such an undertaking at present are obvious, and, after 
much reflection, they have appeared to those connected 
with him insuperable^''^ 

It never appeared to me that the task could be execu= 
ted by any of Mr. Fox's own family with propriety ; but 

as ONE OF THE ILLUSTRIOUS DEAD's SINCERE AND DEVOTED 

PRiENDS, I never entered into any compact to abstain from 
giving the public any information I could upon the most in- 
teresting subject that can occupy the attention of all liberal 
and patriotic characters, of every lover of the human race, of 
science, of virtue, and of their country. I cannot com- 
promise the interests of truth, and the venerable fame of 
hJm who is nov/ no more I his is truly the 



%1 



" Clarutn et venerabile Nomen, 



Which to me shines as with the light of a beacon, to guide 
me through the maze of conflicting and complicated par- 
ties Never shall I think of sparing the delicacy of poli- 
ticians, when the resplendent luminary from whom they 
borrowed their lights is concerned ; no shadow, no spot 
shall remain upon his orb, if the honest touch of truth 
can remove it. If the good of an empire, and the wishes 
of millions for information; if the honour and name of 
Fox are concerned, I cannot stop to consider of wounding 
" the feelings of individuals,'* I shall suppress no truth, 
no circumstance. I stand before my country, not daring 
to be false, and I offer to the shade of Fox the imperfect, 
but genuine and unbiassed homage of a faithful tribute to 
his memory. 

I cannot presume to think that the following volume 
gives an adequate idea of the character of Mr. Fox. The 
early part of his life must at present remain a desideratum 
among his admirers. It is on its close only that I have, I 
hope, been peculiarly enabled to throw a full and satisfac- 
tory degree of light. In early youth, I understand Mr. Fox 
was distinguished by extraordinary application to study. 
He was abroad for a short time at the early age of four- 
teen, to which may be attributed, probably, that fluency, per- 
fect understanding, and good pronunciation of French, 
which most eminently marked him, amongst his country- 
men, and even Frenchmen, at Paris. His knowledge of Ita- 
lian was nearly as great, and probably to be attributed to the 
same cause. If I were to sketch the divisions of his life, ^ 
I would form them into three parts :— -His youth, 
warm and impetuous, but full of extraordinary promise. 
His MIDDLE AGE, energetic and patriotic. His latter 
DAYS, commencing from the French revolution, simple, 
grand, and sublime. 



Xll 



The splendour of the last period presents a picture of 
magnanimity and wisdom of stupendous dimensions, and 
the most powerful effect. I have described his domestic 
life in this period. I have given to the world, his travels, 
a little of his public life, and the closing scene not un- 
worthy of the past life of Fox ! 

My readers will render justice to his memory, and ex- 
cuse the faults and errors of this performance, in consider- 
ing the difficulties which have attended the undertaking; 
the scarcity of written documents to consult, and the pain- 
ful recollections which have often suspended the work, and 
rendered its progress almost intolerable. I have, however, 
acquitted myself without any vain presumption, or expecta- 
tion of applause, but with anxious and trembling solicitude, 
lest I may not have done justice to the grand and affect- 
ing subject. 

It is with no ordinary feelings of respect and diffidence 
that I intrude upon an intelligent public. I leave to their 
indulgent consideration the following effort to give them 
an outline of the latter part of the life of Mr. Fox, relying 
upon the words of the noble editor of the Historical Frag- 
ment, that " those who admired Mr. Fox in public, and 
those who loved him in private, must naturally feel desir- 
ous that some memorial should be preserved of the great 
find good qualities of his head and heart." 



CONTENTS, 



CHAPTER I. 



Vulgar prejudices relative to Mr. Fox — His superiority 
over Mr, Pitt — The mistakes and misfortunes of the 
latter — Character of Mr, Fox — Description of St, Anne^s 
Hill — The author^ s impressions on arriving there — The 
happy retirement of Mr, Fox - - 25 to 32. 



CHAPTER 11. 



Domestic habits of Mr. Fox — The author'*s obligation to 
record his virtues — Contrasted with Mr. Pitt — His love 
of nature — His amenity — His conjugal affection — His 
originality — The newspapers — His conversation — His 
political foresight — His invitation to the author^ — De- 
parture Jfor France — Impressions in Kent 33 to 44. 



CHAPTER III. 



Refections oit approaching France — Reception at Calais — 



XIV 



Independent conduct towards Mr, O* Connor'-^Singular 
distinction made by sir Francis Burdett'-^Opinion of 
that baronet — Calais^^St. Omer'^s - - 45 ^© 53. 



CHAPTER IV. 



Impressions on entering the Netherlands^ — >Mr, Fox^s 
knowledge of agriculture — Delightful situation of Cas- 
sel — Revolutionary impiety — Joseph Andrews — Mrs^ 
Fox — Tree of liberty - - - 54 ^(? 61. 



CHAPTER V. 



Ltsle-^Public respect paid to Mr. Fox — General O^Mara 
^—-Public dinner given to Mr^ Fox— 'His di^dence— 
Ghent^-Charles Fifth- — His retirement contrasted with 
that of Mr, Fox — Public homage to Mr, Fox, — Antwerp 
^"-The jEneid — Mr, Fox^s tenderness — His taste in 
poetry — Enlargement of France-— Breda- — Gardens of 
the stadtholder — Impressions excited by Holland — 
Utrecht' — Industry and liberty — Amsterdam — Haarlem 
« — Ley den — The Hague-^—The stadtholder— The De 
Witts — The Mneid — Rotterdam-— Bergen- op-zoom- — A- 
griculture a?id commerces-Brussels — The jE?ieid — Lord 
Holland-^ M, Chauvelin—~Lord Grenville — Barras-^^Mr* 
Walker'' s Tom Jones — Gemappe — Cambray — Valenci- 
ennes — Ariosto — Tour to Constantinople 62 to \22. 



CHAPTER VL 



Observations on Mr, Fox's character — His opinion of reli- 
gion — Refections on approaching Paris — Bonaparte 



m 



eompated to AugustuS'-^Arrwal at Paris — Hotel de 
Rtchelieu^-Ciimate of Paris - - 123if(?131. 



CHAPTER VIL 

Attractio7is of Paris — The Jirst consul — His establishment 
for life-^-^Charavter of Moreau — The new government — 
Miracles wrought by Mr, Pitt-^Circulating medium of 
France — French theatre- — RacinC'— -Public honours paid 
to Mr. Fox'^First consul at the theatre 132 to 139. 



CHAPTER Vlir. 

The Louvre-^'-French policy — Mr. Fox^s feeling of paint- 
ings — His favourites — His enthusiasm — Visit to Ver- 
sailles — To the Petit Trianon — General Fitzpatrick — 
Lord Robert Spencer — Marie Antoinette — Lord St. John 
^ — Mr Adair — Bureau des affaires etrangeres^^Letters of 
Barillon — Intrigues of Louis and James 140 to 149- 



CHAPTER IX. 



Visit to Tivoli — To the theatres — Mr* Fox^s ear for music 
— Visit from Kosciusko^^Description of that great man 
— Mr^ Fox^s reception of hifji — Party to St. Cloud — 
Meudon — Madame Roland — Bellevue^^'Neuilly — Opera 
Francois — Visit to the Thuilleries - 150 to 158. 



CHAPTER X. 



Conduct of foreigners — The levee — Second party to St. 
Cloud — Monsieur de Grave — Pleasant afternoon — Hap- 



XVI 



piness of Mr* Tox-^-House of Murat — Visit to Talley- 
rand—His person^ and that of Madame — His parties— 
Affairs of Switzerland - - - 159 ^o 166. 



CHAPTER XL 

The consular review — The great levee-'-Mr, Merry — The 
chevalier d'^Azara — The Turkish ambassador — Count 
Markojf- — The marquis Litcchesini — The marquis de 
Gallo — The count Cobenzel — Mr. Livingston- — Cardinal 
Caprara—The author"* s impressions — Bonaparte — he 
Brun — Cambaceres — Mr, Fo^x^s introduction — Bonapar- 
te^s address to him — Lord Erskine — Lawyers have a low 
national rank — Their pursuits narrow and grovelling-^- 
Bonaparte"* s question to a young English ojicer— De- 
scription of Bonaparte — Reflections of the author — 
Aloys Reding — Toussaint — English dinner party — Mr» 
Kemble — English manners — The abbe Sieyes 167 to 1 77» 



CHAPTER XIL 



Historical researches — Charles, fames ^ and Louis-'^Dinner 
at Talleyrand"* s — Due d^Uzeze — Hauterive — Roederer 
--Madame Talleyrand"* s circle — Count Cobenzel — The 
prince of Saxe Wehnar — The abbate Casti — Brueys — 
Mr* Fox in a drawing room — Madame Bonaparte"* s 
draw'ing room — Her character — Visit to Helen Mar'ia 
Williams— M* Perregaux'*s dinner - 17^ to 184. 



CHAPTER XIII. 



Visit from 3L de la Fayette-'-His person, character, and 
pure patriotism- — Similarity between him and Fox — His 



xvu 



retirement — -His invitation — General Fox — Interior of 
St, Cloud — Madame Recamier''s dejeune— General Mo- 
reau-— Eugene Beauharnois>— -Interesting character of 
Madame Recamier — French acting — Seance of the tribu- 
nate^- Hotel des Invalides — Voltaire^ s Zaire 185 to 193* 



CHAPTER XIV. 



Exhibition of natio?ial manufactures' — The first consul--^ 
His interview with Mr. Fox — Low opi?iion of the latter 
of the French government — Characteristics of Mr, Fox 
— Mr, Hare^—M, de Marbonne — Mr, West and Mr, Opiff 
— Madame TallieiUs dinner— Mr, Arthur G^ Connor — A- 
musements — M, Tallien — Bonaparte^ s dinner^-^His con- 
versation — 3Ir, Fox^s opinion ofhim^—His charge against 
3Ir. Windham — His political plans — Mr, Fox^s impres- 
sion - - " " - - 194' to 200. 



CHAPTER XV. 



Visit to Fayette — His house at La Grange-^His family-^ 
Madame— His daughters — Their heroism — General Fitz- 
Patrick — Interesting trio of characters — Lally Tollendal 
— The vicinitij — Happiness of Mr, Fox — The pure and 
exalted character of Fayette — -His innocent occupa- 
tions - - - - " - 201 to 206o 



CHAPTER XVL 



Rumours of war — Afiiiable disposition of the French — Din- 
ner at Berthier^s^—Berthier—Massena — Bougainville — ■ 
Volney'-^Conclusion of labours at the archives — Mr. 

c 



XVlll 



Fox^s Historical Fragment — -Its immaturity — Research'^ 
es at Paris not incorporated — Author's opinion of the 
noble editor — 'Description of Mr. Fox's labours at the 
archives — The grand opera — Laivyers disagreeable 
everytvhere^^Notre Dame — Pantheon — 'Another consu- 
lar levee-^Bonaparte'' s repeated questions 207 to 215o 



CHAPTER XVII. 



General results — Manner s^-^Dr ess — Agriculture — Police^-^ 
Poli teness-^-^Amusements of the French — Government — 
Invigoration — Taxes — Simp lift aation of the laws—Sus- 
picion^--J ealousy — State prisons — Consequence of rnili' 
tary state-— -Parting with Mr. and Mrs. Fox-^Conclu- 
sionof the First Part ° , . » 21^ to 221 ^ 



PART II 



CHAPTER Ic 



Consequences of the death of Mr. Pitt — Mr, Fox^s deter- 
mined retirement — Persuasions used to induce him to be- 
come part of a motley administration — The author'^s pre- 
sentiments — Opinions in Ireland — Of Lady Moira — Her 
just views and exhortations — Her sensibility after Mr. 
Fox^s death — Irish expectations — The author'* s fore- 
bodings — His arrival in London — Mr. Fox^s health — 
Refections — Patriotism of the king — Arduous duties of 
Mr. Fox — His exertions and assiduity^-Confidence in- 
spired by Mr. Fox-Sir F. Vincent — 3Ir. Fox^s dress at 
court — The king'^s reception^ — Intercourse between Mr, 
Fox and his majesty— The king^s opinion of his conduct 
in ofice — Liberal forbearance of the catholics — Statement 
of their case^-Pressure of business- — Mr. Fox^s reliance 
on the conciliating character of the duke of Bedford in 
Ireland — Policy of Messrs. Grattan^ Ponsonby^ and their 
friends . - , » , 224 ^^ 241 o 



XX 



CHAPTER IL 



Retirement to St, Anne^s Hill— Lord Alhemarle^^Hu 
character^ and that of lady Albemarle-— The Messrs, 
Porters— Proposed parallel of Fox and Fayette— His 
love of literature— Euripides^Spencer'—Chaucer— As- 
perity of Mr. Canning-— Author^ s disappointment in lord 
Holland'' s Preface — -Mr, Fox's attention to old friends-—^ 
Mr, Curran—Lord Holland---- Mr ^ Fox'^s assiduity in 
business ^ . ^ ^ ^ 242 to 2S0i 



CHAPTER IIL 



Negotiations for peace— Fox and Talleyrand — Sincerity of 
France— Lord Grenville — Feelings of Mr, Fox — Ad- 
vantages resulting from his high character- — Tran-- 

nitton = - " - " 251 to 25 5i 



CHAPTER IV. 



First announcement of illness--'^ The JEneid — Dido — His 
sympathetic conduct at Holland House — Increase of dis- 
ease- — Exercise— Lord Fitzwilliam—His excellent char- 
acter—The prince of Wales-'-His endearing attentions 
^"Duke of Clarence — Duke of Tork-^-Miss Fox — Mrs^ 
Fox-—Cr abbe's Poems- — Mr. Sheridan- — 3Ir, Grattan-^ 
Operation of tapping — Derangement of the negotiation 
with France— Lord Lauderdale-—Duke of Devonshire— 
Removal to Chiszvick house- — His portrait there — Ejnploy- 
tients-^Exercise— Return of Pittite feelings 256 to 263, 



XXI 



CHAPTER V. 



Increase of disease — The JEne'id — Sympathy of the public 
^"Consolations of a good conscience — Summary of his 
virtues — General Fitzpatrick — Lord Robert Spencer — ■ 
Mrs. Fox — Duke and dutchesrs of Devonshire — Lords 
Grenville and Grey — Value of Mr. Fox's ideas on public 
affairs — Indifference of the cabinet — Dignity of Fox — - 
Second operation of tapping — His self-possession andequa- 
nimity-^Plan for improving medical science 264 to 272. 



CHAPTER VL 



Operation useless — Author and Mrs. Fox in constant at- 
tendance — Johnson's Lives of the Poets — Dryden--^ 
Lord Holland — General Fitzpatrick — Miss Fox — Her 
character — /Harming symptoms^-Solemnity of the au- 
thor'' s duty^-^Last employments of Mr. Fox — The dutchess 
of Devonshire's dressing room-— -Awful impressions-^Pa* 
tience of Mr. Fox — No causes for self- reproach 273 to 27 S. 



CHAPTER VII. 



Determination to try digit alis~<^The author^ s forebodings 
— Advantages of removing to St. Anne's Hill — The His^ 
tory — His last opinions — Conduct of the physicians — 
Author''s solicitude— His reluctance to administer a 
strong remedy-^Its alarming effects — Approaching dis" 
solution— 'His calmness-^His dying se7itiment< — His last 
words^^His death - - - 279 to 2S5, 



MISCELLANEOUS 



FACTS AND OBSERVATIONS. 



Event accompanying his death-^^His countenance after 
deaths—Cast taken from his face — Embalming — His re- 
ligious opinions — The immortality of the soul — JResignch 
tion to Providence— ^Dr> Farr^s work — His body opened — 
Observations thereon-^Digitalis- — His ideas of burial — 
His last wishes-^ A public funeral resolved on-— Vast con- 
course of mourners — Their character and affecting con- 
duct — The procession to Westminster — Sympathy of the 
people — His grave^^Reflections and anguish of the au- 
thor o ^ . « c . 28r?<?296. 



PART III 



LETTERS OF Mr. FOX TO THE AUTHOR) 

299 
LETTERS OF GENERAL FAYETTE 



( 



MEMOIES 



OF 



CHARLES JAMES FOX 



CHAPTER L 



IN recurrifig to the happy days when St. Anne's 
Hill possessed its benevolent and illustrious master, 
a gloom pervades my mind, which neither time, nor change 
of scene, has been able wholly to dissipate. ^ 

Let me, however, suppress my feelings, and commence 
with the period of the year 1802, when Mr. Fox left his 
beloved spot, to visit the new, brilliant, and extraordinary 
scenes then opening in France. If it will not be deemed 
superfluous, (and can any thing be superfluous relating 
to that great man ?) I shall introduce to my reader an 
outline of the domestic life of Mr. Fox, in that dig- 
nified retirement in which he had found true happiness, 
and in which those admirable talents so capable of guiding 



2$ 

and saving a nation, were devoted to the rational purpose 
of acquiring knowledge, and enlarging a mind already so 
powerful and capacious. 

The vulgar, whose prejudices it is difficult to efface^ 
and who are more prone to depreciate than to make allow- 
ance for great characters, hare long imagined, and even 
still continue to think, that Mr. Fox was a mere dissipated 
man of pleasure. This idea had been industriously cher- 
ished and propagated by a party, v/hose interested views 
were promoted, by keeping from the councils of the nation, 
a man so eminently their superior. The unprincipled 
desires of selfish ambition had kept him out of stations for 
which nature had most eminently qualified him. Destined^ 
as he appeared, for being the founder of a political school 
in England — capable of raising her in the opinion of other 
nations, it was his ill fate to be opposed by a minister inca- 
pable of appreciating his merit, and unwilling to recommend 
it to the approbation of his sovereign j though himself 
unfit to be premier, and indeed inadequate to fill any con- 
siderable department of the state. 

The calumny thus attached to Mr. Fox, and the selfish 
monopoly of power which excluded him from the cabinet^ 
have been productive of those enormous evils to the Eng- 
lish nation — which now threaten^her very existence. Mr. 
Pitt, under the controul of an extensive and liberal genius, 
^ke that of Mr» Fox, might have been a useful minister of 
Tinance ; but, in the regulation of the concerns of the 
world, his vigour was creative of destruction, and his im- 
perious spirit, so unworthy a true statesman, was prejudicial 
to liberty abroad, and dangerous to it at home. The 
financial dictator of Downing- street was unfit to cope with 
the consummate military and diplomatic characters whe 
had arisen upon the continent; and, it is very probable 
that his father, lord Chatham, a man great through the 
weakness of France, would have been foiled in such a 
contest; certainly not with so much disgrace, bu|, perhaps. 



27 



with equal misfortune to the country.. The most mischiev- 
ously fatal error which a statesman can be guilty of, is to 
use coercive severity in direct opposition to the bent of 
human nature. The re-action produced, countervails all 
common plans ; and the supremacy over clerks, secretaries, 
and members of parliament, affords dangerous data on 
which to ground expectation, when foreign nations are the 
subjects of fancied management. An enlarged, and an ar- 
rogant mind, are essentially different as to their views, and 
the comprehensiveness of their operations. To superficial 
or selfish observers their plans may seem, for a while, si- 
milar ; but those of the latter are productive of discom- 
fiture and fertile in disgrace. 

I have, however, no desire to stigmatize one of these 
personages to elevate the other ! Both rest in the grave : — - 
but I should deem it derogatory to Mr. Fox's memory, if 
I paid any posthumous compliments to the character and 
talents of a minister, of whom the best that can be said is-, 
that he failed through ignorance, and ruined his country 
through mistake. Facts are decisively against him, and 
the historian who describes them will find, that he misun- 
derstood the law of nations, and that for temporary pur- 
poses, and limited objects, he violated the great principles 
of society, and attempted to produce results which histor- 
ical reasoning, the nature of man, and the voice of religion, 
forbad him to expect. There is no political associate of 
that mistaken minister, possessing any independent quali- 
ties of mind, who, if he now dispassionately reconsider the 
affairs of the last twenty years, but will be forced to avow 
his own delusion, and acknowledge that the irreparable 
mischiefs of a pernicious and obstinately pursued system, 
more congenial to vulgar prejudices, than agreeable to 
grand state maxims, have brought on a change of poli- 
tical relations, on the continent, directly militating against 
the pretensions of Great Britain to rank as a primary 
nation. 



28 

The passions of the vulgar made and kept Mr, Pitt 
minister; but the vulgar themselves are daily receiving 
convincing proofs how little value they have got for their 
money, and that they are likely to obtain still less for the 
little which has been left to them. The factitious honours 
of that dangerous elevation of man, called place — gene- 
ratted a forced applause of that minister, after the death of 
Mr. Fox, which was to me extremely disgusting. There* 
could be no approximation between the characters of a ge- 
nuine and benevolent statesman, and an arrogant and un- 
fortunate minister, whose boasted merit any ingenious 
banker, or skilful accomptant, might easily have rivalled. 
It would have been better, much better, to have told the 
abused people of England the extent of their misfortunes, 
and to have denounced the guilty author of them. The 
incense paid to the manes of Mr. Pitt derogate from the 
value of Mr. Fox ; and, for my part, I cannot admire the 
comparative approbation offered by the latter's colleagues 
in office, or by that celebrated poet, whose charming lays 
ravish our applause in modern times, but whom the various 
accomplishments, as a scholar, a genius, an excellent critic 
in poetry, of Charles James Fox, should long ago have con- 
verted, and thus have prevented him from committing the 
absurdity of placing in the same temple pictures so grossly 
ill-matched, or of arranging in a cabinet a jewel of inesti- 
mable value, beside the glaring, but light and perishable 
composition which assumed its semblance. 

When I first had the happiness of knowing Mr. Fox, 
he had retired, in a great measure, from public life, and 
was inclining towards the evening of his days. A serene 
and cloudless magnanimity, respecting the pursuit of 
power, raised him to an enviablp felicity. His habits 
were very domestic, and his taste' for literature peculiarly 
strong, as well as peculiarly elegant. His love for a 
country life, and all its simple and never-fatiguing charms, 
was great. His temper disposed him to enjoy, and never 
to repine. Had his great powers been employed for the 



29 

benefit of mankind, in literary composition, and researches 
after knowledge, instead of exhausting them in useless de- 
bates, when the issue of the contest was always anticipated, 
and when prejudice and interest gave to a declaiming min- 
ister a superiority, which reason, poured forth with all the 
energy and variety of a Demosthenes, could never obtain, 
the world, and Europe in particular, would have reaped 
advantages which his country blindly rejected; and that 
great mind, which matle little impression upon a disci- 
plined oligarchical senate, would fmore efficaciously have 
operated upon the philosophers, the statesmen, and the 
patriots of Europe. 

At a time of life when other men become more devoted 
to the pursuits of ambition, or to that mean and universal 
passion, avarice; and when their characters accordingly 
become rigid, and unproductive of new sentiments, 
Mr. Fox had all the sensibility and freshness of youth, 
with the energetic glow of manhood in its prime. Know- 
ledge of the world had not at all hardened or disgusted 
him. He knew men, and he pitied rather than condemned 
them. It was singular to behold such a character in Eng= 
land, whose national characteristic is rather philosophic 
reasoning than the sensibility of genius. When I first 
beheld St. Anne's Hill, the impression was the most 
agreeable I had ever received. Every thing recalled to 
my mind the stories of Greece and Rome. I saw a man of 
a noble family, eminent for his genius and talents — an orator 
of unrivrlled powers-— the friend of liberty, — the encour- 
ager of the fine arts — the classical scholar — I saw him re- 
tired to the lovely rural spot he had chosen, and said 
within me, '' This is a character of antiquity ; here is 
genuine greatness." I entered his modest mansion, and 
found the picture of a youthful mind realized. 

St. Anne's Hill is delightfully situated ; it commands a 
rich and extensive prospect, the house is embowered in 
trees, resting on the side of a hill : its grounds decline 
gracefully to a road which bounds them at bottom. Somp 



so 



line trees are grouped round the house, and three remark- 
ably beautiful ones stand in the lawn ; while a profusion of 
shrubs are throughout distributed with taste and judgment. 
Here Mr. Fox was the tranquil and happy possessor of 
about thirty acres of land, and the inmate of a small but 
pleasant mansion. The simplicity and benignity of his 
manners, speaking the integrity and grandeur of his char- 
acter, soon dispelled those feelings of awe which one na- 
turally experiences on approaching what is very exalted. 

I speak of the year 1798, when coercion was the syste- 
matic means of compressing the public mind ; but it is 
believed, by many, to have been an artful mode of strength- 
ening ministerial power, by that goading kind of vigour, 
which drives men to warmth and violence, in the expressing 
their feelings in favour of the constitution and law. The vin- 
dication of that system stands to this day wholly upon asser- 
tion. The unhappy country to which I have the honour and 
misfortune to belong, was then suffering under this reign of 
terror. An enthusiastic party aimed at a visionary republic. 
The example of republican France had heated their imagi- 
nations, and led their understandings astray. A wise 
statesman, by proper concession to all, and a just restora- 
tion of rights to catholics, might have disarmed the nascent 
conspiracy, and arrayed Ireland, far more powerfully than 
in 1782, in favour of Great Britain; but the same narrow- 
ness of mind, and poverty of genius, which coerced at 
home, under the joint ministry of lord Grenville and Mr. 
Pitt, tyrannized in Ireland, under the direction of unprin- 
cipled men, in whose eyes a nation's happiness was trifling 
compared with the gratification of their subordinate am- 
bition. Having at this period formed no very decided 
opinions on politics, and in particular upon Irish affairs, I 
approached the great statesman, who, in retirement, mourn- 
ed over the growing miseries he clearly foresaw, but could 
not prevent, with sentiments of admiration and respect, 
which progressively increased till that melancholy hour 
when, several years afterwards, I saw him breathe his 
last. 



When I first visited St. Anne's Hill, the summer was 
yet young, and all the freshness of nature was upon that 
beautiful spot: its sloping glades were unparched by au- 
tumnal suns.^the flowers and shrubs were redolent with 
sweets, and the full choir of birds, which burst from every 
tree and shady recess, filled the heart with gladness, and 
with that reviving sentiment of pleasure, which is felt by 
minds of sensibility at that period. The rich expanse of 
cultivated country ; the meadows, corn, woods, and villa- 
ges, till the sight caught the far distant smoke of London; 
the graceful Thames, winding below the hill, which was the 
interesting residence of England's greatest character, gave 
a magical, but not delusive effect to all I saw. This pic- 
ture of serenity and rural happiness, when the rash and 
imperious counsels of the English cabinet were everywhere 
producing discord, and laying the foundation of French 
aggrandizement, was sufficiently striking to impress the 
imagination in a most powerful manner; and the long 
series of calamities which followed — blood, devastation and 
torture in Ireland; — suspension of constitution in Eng- 
land J — overthrow of ancient continental kingdoms, — and 
the continually and fearfully augmenting power of regene- 
rated France, subsequently gave to the feelings of that 
moment a prophetic stamp, which has been confirmed to a 
degree that is astonishing, even to those who, in the com- 
mencement of his crusade, dreaded the effects, and foretqld 
many of the consequences, of Mr. Pitt's measures. 

This period of retirement, abstracting the anguish he 
must have felt for the miseries of the world, was, I am 
satisfied, the happiest period of Mr. Fox's life. Assuredly 
the only proper part for a truly great man, if he cannot 
advantageously influence the councils of his country, is in 
complete retirement to devote himself to the cultivation of 
his mental powers, and to wait for that sentiment of con- 
viction arising in the people, which ultimately, under a 
free constitution, becomes irresistible. It was upon this 
principle Mr. Fox acted, and would, I am persuaded, have 



32 



continued to act, had not the powerful ties of friendshipj 
which bound his susceptible heart, drawn him again into 
the fatal vortex of politics. In what degree it is to be re- 
gretted, that this inestimable man should ultimately, by 
his return to parliamentary warfare, and final accession to 
power, along with lord Grenville, have injured his health, 
and somewhat diminished the lustre of his reputation, the 
future historian will mark with care — ^his friends with deep 
but fruitless sorrow, — and the public, through a long 
course of calamity opening before them,— will hereafter 
nnavailingly acknoxvkdge! 



CHAPTER IL 



THE domestic life of Mr. Fox was equally regular 
and agreeable. In summer he rose between six and seven : 
in winter before eight. The assiduous care, and excellent 
management, of Mrs. Fox, rendered his rural mansion the 
abode of peace, elegance, and order, and had long procured 
her the gratitude and esteem of those private friends, 
whose visits to Mr. Fox, in his retirement at St. Anne's 
Hill, made them witnesses of this amiable woman's ex- 
emplary and endearing conduct. I confess I carried with 
me some of the vulgar prejudices respecting this great man. 
How completely was I undeceived ! After breakfast, which 
took place between eight and nine in summer, and at a 
little after nine in winter, he usually read some Italian 
author with Mrs. Fox, and then spent the time preceding 
dinner at his literary studies, in which the Greek poets 
bore a principal part. 

A frugal, but plentiful dinner took place at three, or 
half past two, in summer, and at four in winter ; and a few 
glasses of wine were followed by coffee. The evening was 
dedicated to walking and conversation till tea time, when 
reading aloud, in history, commenced, and continued till 
near ten. A light supper of fruit, pastry, or something 
very trifling, finished the day ; and at half past ten the 
family were gone to rest; and the next, and succeeding 
dawn ushered in the same order and elegance, and foimd 

K 



34 

the same content, the same happiness, and the same virtu^ 
0US and useful life. 

" A life so sacred, such serene repose 
Seemed Hfeaven itself." 

Alas, those scenes are forever closed; that heart which 
throbbed with every fine feeling is cold ;■ — those private 
virtues which made St. Anne's Hill so delightful, those 
public ones, which might have benefited mankind, are lost^ 
It is with pain and reluctance I go on ; but the dictates of 
friendship and truth ought to be obeyed. One small record, 
unmixrd with, and uncontrolled by, party motives, shall 
afford to posterity, if it survive, some means, though im- 
perfect, of appreciating the private character of the most 
illustrious, but often the most calumniated, of public men 
in the eighteenth century. Ncr monument yet marks a 
nation's gratitude towards him; and the all-prevailing as- 
cendency of the system which lord Bute, lord North, 
and Mr. William Pitt, successively defended and propaga- 
ted, has stifled every parliamentary expression of respect 
and veneration for the memory of Charles James Fox j 
whilst a successful skirmish, or a dubious battle, unites all 
parties in conferring honours and rewards ! Nor do I think 
it is one moment to be admitted, that so unfortunate a po- 
litician, as his parliamentary rival, could have been Mr* 
Fox's coadjutor in office; their principles were diametri- 
cally opposite I the one was a practical lover of arbitrary 
power, and in his own person exercised it too long for the 
glory of his sovereign, or the happiness of his people : the 
other was a sincere friend to a limited monarchy, which is 
the only species of government recognized by the British 
constitution ; was a benevolent statesman of the first order, 
and an undaunted advocate for liberty, whether civil rights, 
or freedom of conscience were concerned. Ministries 
formed of repugnant and conflicting materials cannot be 
permanent or efficient. Every department ought to be fil- 
led by men of whom the statesman, who undertakes to 



.35- 

conduct the affairs of a nation has the selection, and 03a 
whose principles, as well as talents, he can rely. The 
disorder which otherwise takes place from the counter- 
action of the inferior servants of government is of the 
worst kind, paralysing every grand measure of the head 
pf the ministry, and even controlling his intentions. 

The great genius of Mr. Fox, to have been efficient, 
should have reigned supreme in the management of pub- 
lic affairs. Mr. Pitt, under the wholesome restraints, 
and instructed of the enlightened mind, of that great man, 
might have conducted a subordinate department with bene- 
fit to his country ; but as to co-operation with him, on any 
system of co-ordinate power, the plan must have been de- 
trimental to the public service, as long as it was atte mpt- 
ed, and certainly would have been degrading to Mr. Fox. 
The more I have considered, the more am I persuaded, 
that his own conceptio-n of retirement was the true rule of 
conduct to follow ; and being one of the most disinterested 
of men, and havingno impatience to attain power, it would 
have been as easy as wise in him to have adhered to it. 

At the period to which I allude, he was beginning to 
turn his attention to an historical work, and our readings 
after tea were directed to the furtherance of this grand and 
useful object* Happy were those evenings, when the in- 
struction of the historian — the pointed remarks of the 
statesman — and all the ease and happiness of domestic 
society were united. The occasional visits of men of tal- 
ent and high character sometimes pleasingly interrupted 
the evening's employment : but I have never seen Mr. Fox. 
more perfectly happy than when we were quite alone. He 
^was so utterly divested of a wish to shine, or of any appetite 
for flattery, that he in no manner required, what is called, 
company, to enliven or animate him. , A lover of nature., 
and consequently an enemy to art, he held, I think, above 
every quality, sincerity and unaffectedness ; and, behig also 
of a character singularly domestic and amiahiej be found. 



36 



in his little circle all he wished and wanted. To his 
other attainments he had added very considerable know- 
ledge in Botany; and without making it a primary object, 
enjoyed every pursuit connected with agriculture, in a 
high degree. 

About the end of the year 1799, Mr. Fox met with 
an accident of a most alarming nature. He was very 
fond of shooting, and as he was following that amuse- 
ment one day in the neighbourhood of Chertsey, in com-- 
pany with Mr. William Porter, of that town, his gun 
burst in his hand. The explosion having shattered it 
much, he wrapped it up, and returned to St. Anne's. As 
no surgeon in the country would undertake so delicate a 
charge upon his own responsibility, Mr Fox was advised 
to go instantly to town. An hasty dinner was provided, 
the chaise ordered, and, accompanied by Mrs. Fox, he 
very shortly set out for London. Mr. Porter told me 
that he manifested no impatience or apprehension, though 
the anguish he suffered must have been excessive ; all the 
anxiety he testified was lest Mrs. Fox should be agitated 
and alarmed. On his way to town he composed the 
following verses, which display a tenderness of disposi- 
tion, and an exquisiteness of feeling, rarely met with (un- 
happily for the world) in those statesmen who rule man^ 
kind. 

*' How can I at aught repine, 
While my dearest Liz is mine ? 
Can I feel or pain or woe. 
While my Lizzy loves me so ? 
Where's the sorrow, that thy smile 
Knows not sweetly to beguile ? 
Sense of pain, and danger flies 
From the looks of those dear eyes: 
Looks of kindness, looks of love, 
That lift my mortal thoughts above. 
While I view that heavenly face. 
While I feel tliat dear embrace. 
While 1 hear that soothing voice, 
; Thp' maimed or crippled, life's my choice ? 



37 

Without them, all the fates can give 
Has nought would make me wish to live ; 
No, could they foil the power of time. 
And restore youth's boasted prime. 
Add to hoot, fame, power, and wealth, 
Undisturb'd and cert^n health, 
Without thee, 'twou'd nought avail. 
The source of every joy would fail ; 
Bat lov'd by thee, by thee caress'd. 
In pain and sickness 1 am blest." 

Though many estimable, and subsequently very eleva- 
ted characters, visited at St. Anne's Hill, I never liked it 
so well, as when we were quite alone. There was a per- 
fect originality of character in Mr. Fox, that made his 
society always nev/, and always preferable to that of most; 
other men. Professional cant, and party ideas in general, 
give a monotony to the minds of distinguished members 
of society. Accustomed to view things constantly in one 
way, and not seeking for new ideas, but rather occupied 
in advancing or defending their old ones, their conversation 
does not create new sensations, and frequently wearies rather 
than delights. Mr. Fox himself was so little obtrusive in 
this respect, that I recollect feeling a good deal of embar- 
rassment at first, on observing how frequently he was in° 
dined to silence, waiting for others to begin a conversation. 
I soon discovered, however, that he was pleased at its 
originating with another ; and, so great was his benevolence^ 
as well as unbounded his capacity, that whatever was 
started, in the smallest degree interesting, useful, or 
natural, received illustration and indulgent investigation 
from him. How well do I recollect the mornings when 
he came down to breakfast — how benignant and cheerful — = 
how pleased with every thing— how free from worldly 
passions, and worldly views he was ! Nor were Mrs. Fox's 
captivating manners conducive in a faint manner to the 
harmonizing of every thing around : the watchful and re- 
fined attention she paid to her guests anticipated every 
thing thev could desire, and charmed away every feeling of 



38 

embarrassment, which diffidence, in the presence of a ver^ 
great man, might be apt to occasion. 

At breakfast, the newspaper was read, commonly by- 
Mr. Fox ; as well as the letters which had arrived, for 
such was the noble confidence of his mind, that he con- 
cealed nothing from his domestic circle, unless it were the 
faults, or the secrets of his friends. At such times, when 
the political topics of the day were naturally introduced 
by the paper, I never could observe the least acrimony or 
anger against that party which so sedulously, and indeed 
successfully, had laboured to exclude him from the man- 
agement of affairs, by misrepresentations of his motives, 
rather than by refutations of his arguments. 

In private conversation, I think, he was rather averse- 
to political discussion, generally preferring subjects con- 
nected with natural history, in any of its branches ; but, 
above all, dwelling with delight on classical and poetical 
subjects. It is not to be supposed, however, that, where 
the interests and happiness of millions were concerned, he 
preserved a cold silence. He rather abstained from hope- 
less and useless complaining, than withheld his mite of 
compassion and sympathy for those who suffered under a 
pernicious system. As my acquaintance commenced with 
Mr. Fox towards the evening of his days, and at the pe- 
riod when a rebellion in Ireland was followed, by what has 
been fallaciously styled, a union, I had the opportunity of 
observing his great humanity, and his freedom from pre- 
judice, in regard to that country. In this respect he ever 
seemed to me to stand alone, among English politicians, 
many of whom are liberal enough in their own way, but 
all of whom agree in a love of dominion, and in a certain 
degree of contempt respecting the Irish, which, one day or 
other, will, I fear, generate events fatal to the repose of 
both islands. There is no nation in Europe, perhaps, 
more contracted in their way of thinking, or less fit to es^ 
Sablish a conciliating government, than the English. Had. 



39 

the benevolent and enlarged mind of Mr. Fox directed 
their councils, during the twenty years preceding his 
death, this narrow system would not have prevailed, but 
Ireland might have been really wnited, by the firm bonds 
of gratitude and interest, to Great Britain. The state of 
things arising in Europe, required the most enlightened 
and improved policy in English statesmen. The coercive 
energy of the new military government in France was 
alone to be counterpoised, and met, on the part of these 
islands, by a still more vigorous spirit, produced by the 
conscious possession of equal rights, and a renovated 
constitution. 

To enter the lists with the great military chieftain of 
the French, without similarity of means or situation, has 
proved a want of knowledge of England's true strength, 
and rather the blindness of envy, than the foresight of wis- 
dom. Mr. Pitt treated Ireland like a conquered country, 
and chose to build upon the hollow submission of slaves, 
rather than strengthen himself by the support of free men. 
I can truly testify, that in the shocking times of 1798, 
and, during the degrading scene which crowned them, Mr. 
Fox yearned over Irish misfortunes with a truly paternal 
heart. 

A peculiar attribute of his character was, an inclination 
tp encourage and raise up neglected merit, and to pour 
balm into the wounds of misery. What a quality would 
th^s have been in an English statesman, in operating for 
the benefit and redemption of Ireland ? I distinctly recol- 
lect the horror excited in him, on hearing of the burning 
of cottages and their furniture, by the miiitary^ — the pain 
he felt on reading the accounts of the actions between the 
insurgents and the army. — How well I remember the valu- 
able cautions he gave me, when the acuteness of my feel- 
ings for a suffering country, prompted hasty and moment- 
ary expressions of anguish. His opinion, which is given 
in one of the letters annexed to this volume, when the uniosj 



40 

was agitated in Ireland, will be found solid and important | 
I do not take upon me to assert, that it went so far as to 
imply the re-admission of catholics to the parliament of 
their country, but I believe it must be taken to have gone 
that length, because, reform in Ireland, without relieving 
the great majority, and fully admitting them to participa- 
tion of civil rights, must be deemed illusive and partial, 
and, consequently, uncongenial to such a mind as that of 
Mr. Fox. The grand principle he relied on in this case, 
namely, that the aristocracy, without the support of the 
people, are nothing, has been, since his lamented death, 
strongly elucidated and demonstrated in England, as it 
was also in Ireland at the period of the union. Nor is it 
a less important truth, that the people, separated from the 
aristocracy, (or to make it clearer) from all those characters 
whom genius, education, and cultivation of mind, have 
elevated, must be feeble, or at best, hurried on by impotent 
violence, and that both parties must ultimately fall under 
too great a controul of the crown. 

In turning with my reader to foreign scenes, these 
truths will be further developed,but in general I shall prefer a 
simple exposition of facts, to drawing conclusions, or pro- 
nouncing opinions ; and I must intreat my readers to con- 
sider me as not presuming to advance ideas and sentiments 
of my own as those of Mr. Fox. In the latter case I shall 
always specify what was his ; in the former, I shall use the 
right of an independent mind to exercise its own powers, 
taking on myself all responsibility and blame, where either 
may be incurred. 

The peace, or rather the truce of Amiens, in 1802, very 
naturally excited in Mr. Fox a desire to visit the conti 
inent. His historical work had advanced a good way, 
but as he approached the reign of James the 2nd. he felt 
a want of materials, which he understood could alone be 
supplied in Paris, and he determined to go there. That 
work has since appeared, and the public have formed their 



41 



opinion upon it. I do not hesitate to say, that it would 
have been desirable that he had gone further back, or cho- 
sen a larger period, and one unconnected even by analogy 
with modern politics. An involuntaiy association of ideas 
and feelings, tending to form a comparative view of epochs 
and circumstances, may have had an influence, unsus- 
pected by the author, and have led to his dwelling, as it 
has appeared to some, with prolixity upon peculiar pas- 
sages in the unhappy reigns of Charles and James. 

The goodness of his heart, and the grandeur of his mind 
-—the just medium of his opinions between the crown and 
democracy, and his warm love of true and rational liberty, 
are, however, indelibly recorded in a work, which per- 
haps came out too soon after his death to be justly appre- 
ciated ; and as it promoted the views of none of the par- 
ties of the day, it is rather to be considered a classic, 
whose wholesome tendency, and purity of principle, will 
benefit posterity, than amend the present generation. 

I was wandering among the beauties of North Wales, 
when a letter from Mr. Fox reached me, stating his inten- 
tion of going to France, in furtherance of this historical 
work, and adding, that I could be of use in copying for 
him in Paris, The sublime scenery of the interior of 
North Wales, the peaceful mansions of a contented and 
happy people, the innumerable beauties of nature, stamped 
by the hand of a divine Creator, and scattered profusely 
around me, had harmonized my mind, and prepared it for 
reflection and observation. The friendly eye which had 
penetrated these recesses, and the hand which had bec- 
koned me to leave these calm and rural haunts, to behold 
a new and brilliant order of things in the powerful king- 
dom of France, were recognised by me as heralds of friend- 
ship and beneficence ; but his active benevolence manifest- 
ed on this occasion filled me with grateful surprise. ^ 

Reader ! such a character was Mr. Fox ! To raise up 
the neglected, and to aid those whom scanty means might 



42 



keep pining at home, or languishing in obscurity, was Hrs 
bright characteristic. The practical homage paid to the 
deity by this great and christian character, was to cheer 
the afflicted, and elevate the oppressed. 

Still I left Wales with regret, for I had experienced 
that happiness is not to be found in crowds, and that the 
glare of grandeur dazzles, but neither \varms nor enlivens* 
Sincerity is an humble flower, which rarely flourishes near 
it, and without that I had learnt to prefer retirement to all 
the bustle and pomp of courts* 

To visit the brilliant scenes opening before me in the 
society of such an exalted, (because benevolent and hu- 
mane) as well as so great a man, as Mr. Fox, afforded, 
however, a very animating prospect. Hesitation would 
have been folly ; and I hastened, (after crossing the chan° 
nel to Ireland for a short time) to join the beloved inhabi- 
tants of St. Anne's Hill, and to offer there my gratitude 
and duty for this new act of unremitting friendship. At 
this moment, though all is cheerful and. lovely around me, 
in my native and honoured country, and although I feel 
no want of what renders life comfortable, to those who 
can be happy amidst the never-fading delights of nature, 
and the simple but solid enjoyments which retirement and 
the country yield, yet I recur with pain to those times, 
when St. Anne's Hill possessed its illustrious master, 
and the remembrance of them saddens all the charming 
scenes around me. 

When I arrived at St. Anne's Hill, I. found the family 
nearly ready for the journey. Mr. and Mrs. Fox, Mr. 
(now lord) St. John, and myself, formed the travelling 
party; and on the morning of the 29th of July, 18Q2, we 
set out in a travelling coach for France, 

The delightful country, through which we passed, was 
in great beauty, and England, which, under its govern- 



43 



ment well administered, had been truly the bulwark of 
liberty, and the asylum of the unfortunate, seemed to me 
never more deserving the appellation of the garden of the 
world. We passed through a great part of that most 
favoured portion of it, Kent, and rested one night at lord 
Thanet's. Every thing that politeness and hospitality 
could prepare awaited us at this superb mansion. To me, 
however, there is always something triste in th^ large <lo' 
mains and palaces of great men in the country ; there is a 
void, a want of happy and independent human beings, 
which deprives the most beautiful and sublime scenery of 
its charm, and the solitude created, being very different 
from that where all is free and unbounded, as on moun- 
tains, in glens, or valleys, or on the sea shore, produces 
langour, and gives an idea of confinement and inaction, 
instead of that repose of nature, so grateful to contempla- 
tive minds. Passing, on the following morning, the de- 
lightful aspect of Kent, so verdant, and adorned with neat 
and excellent enclosures, with its varying grounds of unri- 
valled beauty, and its hop plantations, emulating the ap- 
pearance of vineyards, enchanted us all. The view above 
Hythe struck Mr. Fox particularly, and with great reason, 
for seldom does one behold a more fascinating picture 
than it presents. It made so strong an impression on 
him, that from France he afterwards wrote to a friend 
following him, to call his attention to the scene, which 
had so much delighted him. 

On our arrival at Dover, crowds were assembled to 
behold the celebrated person, whose oratory and political 
exertions had so long and so powerfully been exercised, 
in favour of a misguided people. They followed him to 
the shore, and testified a strong interest respecting him till 
the moment of his embarkation. The gale was pleasant 
and favourable, and the white cliffs of Dover, and the 
sandy beach and banks of the coast of France, were visi- 
ble at the same time. Mr. Fox enjoyed the scene mucho 
I had, indeed, observed from our leaving St. Anne's, a 



44 



freshness and juvenility in his mind, which had raised him 
still higher in my opinion. He might have been taken for 
a person newly entering into the scenes of life, so cheerful, 
so pleased, and so very much alive to the most minute 
objects in nature as he was. At times, however, the 
grandeur and extent of his genius shewed itself. There 
was perfect dignity, too, in his manner, united to the 
greatest simplicity. During our whole subsequent tour, 
he preserved this kind of demeanor and manners — add to 
which a solicitude that every one with him should be hap- 
py, should enjoy, and not lose any thing interesting, beau- 
tiful, or curious* 



CHAPTER IIL 



AS the packet passed through the glittering waves 
jwith a brisk and easy motion, my mind was suspended as 
it were between various sensations and ideas. We had 
left the proud coast of Albion to visit the regenerated 
kingdom of France. The long enjoyed power of the 
Bourbons had vanished before the irresistible course of 
events. We were about to exchange our imaginations 
and opinions for certain ideas ; we were to judge for our- 
selves ; and, disencumbering our minds of the false im- 
pression unavoidably made on those distant from the thea- 
tre of a great revolution, we were to be enabled to form a 
just opinion of effects, and to examine and analyse causes, 
in the political or moral sphere of men, or, as I may now 
express it, imperial France. The awful consideration of 
the torrents of blood which had been shed — the compari- 
son between such horror, and the tranquil calm which 
England had enjoyed'— the recollection of empires over- 
thrown, and of the immutability of civil and religious 
rights — the doubt whether the miseries of a revolution 
.were compensated by a beneficial change in government 
— the confused conjecture what the future peace relations 
between the two nations would be— and a lively curiosity 
to behold Paris, the seat of a new government, and the 



46 



novel order of things, pressed on the imagination, and 
hurried us in anxious anticipation towards the shore. The 
character of the warrior and statesman, who h^d been 
placed, by the force of his own genius, fortuitous circum- 
stances, and the wishes of an harassed people, in the seat 
of supreme power, was also in itself a strong stimulous to 
our curiosity. 

There is a natural desire in all men to view a celebra- 
ted person whose exploits have crowned him with glory. 
One wishes to examine the form and countenance, to hear 
the voice, and observe the manner of such a man ; and as 
we eagerly search amongst the remnants of antiquities, 
for any outline, medal, bust, or any otlxer demonstration 
of the features or appearance of a great genius, so we 
have a craving wish to contemplate a living character 
standing high in the temple of Fame. It is a just and 
natural feeling, and is, as it were, a tribute to one of our 
own species, endowed with eminent and extraordinary 
qualities, that we cannot withhold, unless envy blinds, and 
malice hardens us, 

I do not say that such was Mr. Fox's feelings respect- 
ing Bonaparte : raised himself, as I think, upon a greater 
eminence, he could not, as I did, look with the same as- 
tonishment at the stupendous character of that great man ; 
but he could not be devoid of a desire, common to us all, 
of seeing and hearing one of the most eminent persons of 
ihe age. He to 'whom the histories of Greece and Rome 
were so familiar, looked with a philosophic eye upon 
his exaltation, and considered it as a natural and una- 
voidable consequence, of the military cast assumed by 
the French nation, and of the preponderance of its armies. 
1 imagine, however, that there must be a certain sort of 
sympathy between men of unbounded genius, who, though 
their pursuits have been different, and their countries at 
times adverse and hostile, pay to one another the mutual 
homage of a kind of complacent respect and deferenccv 



47 

As these various ideas passed through my nJM) ^^^ ^^^ 
sel glided along,— 



-a^^i A Ku^at 



and, after a passage of about three hours, we entered th& 
harbour of Calais. The quay was crowded with specta- 
tors, anxious to see the great ornament of England, her 
most powerful orator, and her almost prophetic statesman. 
We landed amidst the crowd, and passed to the well 
known inn at Calais, then extremely well kept by Killiaco 
I found myself in a new world; the language, the phy- 
siognomy, the manners, all different from those of the coun- 
try I had left ; and I could not but perceive a superiority iis 
the latter respect to a considerable degree. The munici- 
pal officers of Calais very speedily waited on Mr. Fox, 
paying him every attention, and expressing a wish to en= 
tertain him, which he politely declined, on account of hi& 
desire to proceed the following morning, without delay. 

V 

An incident occurred at Calais, which, as it excited 
much remark, and roused a good deal of censure at the 
lime, I shall advert to more at length than would other- 
wise be necessary. It happened that Mr. Arthur O'Con- 
nor had arrived at the inn at which we stopped very shortly 
before. He waited on Mr. Fox, was received by him 
with that urbanity and openness which distinguished him^ 
and was invited to dinner by him, which invitation he ac- 
cepted of. I had never seen this gentleman before. It 
is well known that, after a long confinement at Fort 
George, he, and some other Irish gentlemen, had agreed 
with the Irish government to expatriate themselves for 
life. Mr. O'Connor was now on his way to Paris accord- 
ingly ; when chance brought him to Killiac'S inn, at the 
same time with Mr. Fox. His manners were extremely 
pleasing; and, without entering into an'y discussion of 
Irish politics, in the unhappy times in Ireland precedin^g 



48 

and follow|gLthe year 1)^98, I may risk the assertion, that, 
us an Irish gentleman, and an unfortunate exile, (and ali 
who are compelled to leave their country are unfortunate,) 
he was entitled to politeness, humanity, and even commi- 
seration. — Perfectly unconnected with government, and 
travelling as any other English gentleman of noble birth, 
Mr. Fox found no difficulty in receiving this gentleman, 
(whom he had known before he was so deepiv 'implicated 
in Irish politics,) with a friendly and consoling cicome. 
Mr. O'Connor dined with us ; and I, for one, /.as much 
pleased with his deportment and appearance, though I 
could not become, in a manner, a convert to his a/gu- 
ments, to prove that his party had not attempted, or desir- 
ed, to rouse the physical strength of his country to effect 
a change in Ireland. 

We all went to the theatre in the evening, which, if 
painted and cleaned, would have appeared agreeably 
enough. We afterwards saw Mr. O'Connor (vvho re- 
mained some time at Calais after us,) two or three times 
at Paris. I should not have dwelt upon this little inci- 
dent in the commencement of the tour, but, as preju- 
dice in some, and malignity in others, magnified it into 
a most improper communication with a traitorous or 
rebellious subject, at the time it occurred ; and, as the 
character of Mr. Fox must always be of consequence to 
the public, I have judged it incumbent on me to state the 
facts in all their simplicity and truth, as an antidote to the 
calumnj'. 

It would have been quite unsuitable to the grandeur and 
purity of Mr Fox's character, to have taken any little pre- 
cautions for avoiding what might give party malice a han- 
dle. Certainly, he would not have sought Mr. O'Con- 
nor, under those delicate circumstances ; but when, in the 
warmth of the moment, he came to Mr. Fox's apartments, 
it would have evinced a consciousness of liability to blame^ 
*»r a timidity of mind, to have shrunk from the visit, or 



49 



received it with hauteur and coldness. Mr. Fox, felt 
nothing of these weaknesses ; and, in affording the rights 
of hospitality to an unhappy Irish gentleman, did, perhaps, 
on no occasion, more strongly demonstrate that real mag- 
nanimity which rests on inward rectitude, and despises 
the clamour of unthinking, ignorant, or interested men. 
Perhaps it would have been desirable that the circum- 
stance had not occurred; but it remained alone for Mr. 
Fox to consult the genuine dignity and benevolence of his 
character, and to act as he did. 

A recent speech of a celebrated baronet^ has recalled to 
my mind what we heard either at Calais, or some other 
French town, relating to sir Francis Burdett. It was 
reported to us that sir Francis, on landing at Calais, had 
been designated, (with a design to compliment him) as 
the friend of Charles Fox, and that he had turned round, 
and instantly corrected the expression by saying, " No,'^ 
that he was " /'ami du peupW The baronet in his late 
speech said, " he was not the friend of Csesar or of Pom- 
pey, but the friend of the people." I had the pleasure of 
meeting sir Francis at St. Anne's Hill, before he had 
attained any of his subsequent celebrity. I then thought 
him pleasing, though tinged with vanity, which, perhaps^ 
in the society of Mr. Fox, was more peculiarly conspicu- 
ous, because the powerful lustre of his great, yet unassu- 
ming character, rendered the tinsel glare of any superficial 
pretension strikingly obvious. At this period, and I 
allude to the Middlesex election, which made so much 
noise in 1802, sir Francis was not unwilling to benefit by 
the great and glorious name of Fox. It was of consider- 
able service to him in his Middlesex elections ; and I own 
that when I heard this " disclaimer" at Calais, I was not 
induced to entertain a more elevated idea of sir Francis 
Burdett's character, than I had originally entertained* 
There was certainly not much judgment ; not a proper 
feeling of Mr. Fox's estimation on the continent ; and not 
a due sense of that great man's protection snd kindness on 

G 



50 



public occasions, manifested in this reply of sir Francis 
Burdett. Fox, the champion of the rights of bleeding 
and oppressed America, of suffering Ireland, of the mana- 
cled and despairing slave,' — the advocate of religious and 
civil liberty,— the opposer, for thirty years, of corrupt and 
arbitrary ministers, — the statesman whom all foreign courts 
respected, and foreign nations loved,- — was not Fox, an 
honourable and dignified friend, to be given to sir Francis 
Burdett ? — and did it become him to turn and disclaim 
the title in order to assume the far less solid glory of 
" I'ami du peuple V^ I would consider the approbation 
and friendship of so illustrious a person as Charles James 
Fox as much more valuable than the evanescent applause of 
a heated multitude. To be the friend of Fox and of the 
English people were, besides, not incompatible or inconsis- 
tent. They put under my plate at the public dinner at 
Lisle, a ticket inscribed, " I'ami du lord Fox," which I 
have ever since retained, as an honourable, and to me ever 
melancholy memorial. I should have been sorry had I 
even possessed all the fortune, and all the consequence of 
sir Francis Burdett, to have thrown away my ticket with 
coldness, or to have returned it to the good people of 
Lisle with the remark, that I required one inscribed " I'ami 
du peuple." The words of sir Francis, at Calais, may 
appear to some too trivial to record. I do not think so. 
I was then of opinion, and am still, that they strongly 
marked his character, that a love of popular admiration 
pervaded his mind, and blinded his judgment ; and that 
nothing could more plainly indicate the bias of his mind 
than the reply at Calais. If I had had doubts of his hav- 
ing made it, his late words would remove them. " It 
was said in ancient times, that Caesar had a friend, and 
Pompey had friends, but that the public had no friends ; 
I shall never be jof the party of Csesar, nor of Pompey.'^ 

This denial of party, when he is at the head of a very 
active one, is another proof of that inordinate love of ap~ 
plause which has carried the respectable and amiable ba« 



SI 



2'onet into the impropriety of appearing to disavow a friend^ 
or of putting his own party in the place of the English 
nation. Excessive flattery is bad for the people them- 
selves ; and, when applied in this manner, by sir Francis 
Burdett, is apt to lead them into an arrogant and monstrous 
estimation of their own value, to the prejudice of many 
patriotic and noble characters ; who, though they may be 
the friends of Caesar or of Pompey, (and how many illiis- 
trious and patriotic Romans ranged under the banners of 
each ?) may not be the enemies of the people j although 
they do not, on public occasions, flatter their vanity, and 
receive, in return, peals and bursts of applause. 

The town of Calais is a considerable one, containing 
from nine to eleven thousand inhabitants ; it resembles an 
English town so much^that it reminded me of the period 
when it was annexed to England. The change, however, 
was very great. Those dismembered parts of this king- 
dom, once attached to England, all reunited, and a great 
and astonishing accession of territory superadded — no lon- 
ger that dangerous military genius existing in the English 
monarchs, which so often led them to successful invasion of 
their neighbours : their naval glory conducing rather to 
the acquisition of colonies, than to the subjugation of king- 
doms ; and their statesmen cultivating the interests, and 
bending to the views of commerce, instead of keeping the 
English, a martial, lofty, and independent race of men, as 
they were in their ancient and better days ; these were 
features of the times very obviously presenting themselves 
to a young traveller's contemplation, upon his entrance 
into Calais. Tjie moat and fortifications, once used 
against the inhabitants of the country, are become useless ; 
and, as we passed through the gates, on the morning of 
the 1st of August, ^Ipe day after we had landed, I felt 
satisfaction that the inhabitants of •'ranee were relieved 
from a vexation, and those of England from a burthen* 
some and superfluous expense. 



S2 

The country around Calais being destitute of interest 
and beauty, until we arrive on the borders of Flanders, 
there was little to call forth observation, at first, upon en- 
tering France. To me, however, as every thing was 
new, even this scene was entertaining—- the dress of the 
peasantry, being of various, and of the finest colours, such 
as crimson, pink, sky blue, and light green, struck me as 
adding greatly to picturesque effect; and I believe the 
painter's eye would, in every scene of rural beauty, re- 
quire the warm and finer colours occasionally to intervene, 
to make that perfect harmony which delights and satisfies 
the eye in colouring* 

St. Omer's is a large, and I thought a' melancholy- 
looking town. There is one very handsome, though in- 
jured, church, and several others, as well as convents, or 
rather ruined buildings, formerly convents. It seemed to 
be thinly peopled and dull. As this town had often af- 
forded education to Irish young men, destined for that 
ecclesiastical situation, which had long been, with more 
than Gothic proscription, denounced and persecuted in the 
native country of these unfortunate men, I suppressed a 
sigh, as we passed through, at the fate of my countrymen, 
so well deserving, yet so long debarred of happiness. I 
hoped for enlightened times operating in their favour, and 
I breathed the melancholy prayer, that if their misfortunes 
were to endure yet longer, I might close the last of my 
days among them ; and, if possible, alleviate their miseries,, 
by giving such counsel and consolation as limited powers 
would allow, and by participating in those sorrows whose 
cause had not been removed. Mr. Fox, the best pillar of 
the English constitution, in the genuine sense of the word, 
and the best friend to Ireland, whose genius and philan- 
thropy gave grounds for hoping belBt things, was advanc- 
ing in years. It wa* not even probable, then, that he 
would ever be minister in England. My melancholy fore^ 
boding did not anticipate his premature dissolution ', but 



53 



something told me, that Ireland was to suffer yet as much 
as she had done in those illiberal days, when her youth 
were driven to seek that education abroad, which she had 
formerly herself afforded to foreigners ; to the sons of 
nobles and kings, and to lovers of literature from every 
clime. 



CHAPTER IVe 



ON entering that part of ^modern France, so well 
known by the appellation of the Netherlands, the glorious 
scene of human prosperity, and of rural happiness and 
plenty, which opened before our delighted eyes, was a true 
feast to the mind. Flanders had long enjoyed a liberal 
portion of rational liberty : its independence, sanctioned 
and guaranteed by so many imperial sovereigns, had, until 
the reign of the visionary despot Joseph II. given it all 
the just fruits of liberty, peace, abundance, and security. 
Our way to Cassel lay throi^h a most rich, finely-culti- 
vated, and beautiful tract of land. No longer fields, as in 
the garden-like country of England, but plains of golden 
harvest, stretched around. As we approached St. Omer's 
the difference between two very distinct race of men grew 
perceptible ; and after passing it, the gradation from French 
to Flemish was quickly lost in the latter. A larger bodily 
form, a manifest deficiency in grace, less intellect, but more 
plain sense — the dress inelegant and cumbrous, marked 
the Flemings. As yet I had seen but little of the French | 
but already their gracefulness, politeness, and the general 
elegance of their forms, had prepossessed me in their 
favour. There was an antique homeliness, however, in 
the Flemings extremely respectable, and not destitute of 



55 

interest. The traces of their ancient independence were 
legible everywhere. Their very stature, and the size of 
their cattle and domestic animals, seemed, under the fos- 
tering and protecting hand of liberty, to have amplified, 
and nature, no longer stinted, to have pushed to their 
just dimensions, the forms of rational and animal beings. 
My heart expanded at the consciousness that some of my 
fellow- creatures had been, and were yet, comparatively 
speaking, happy and unmolested by the galling hand of ar- 
bitrary power. The noble scene of universal plenty and 
content, which presented itself, produced a thousand pleas- 
ing sensations. I entered, in imagination, their dwellings, 
which, as we passed along, appeared, with very few ex- 
ceptions, neat, good, and comfortable. The people looked 
happy. I could fancy the comfort and pleasure of the 
domestic circle ; the good wife and affectionate mother, 
the ornament and blessing of her family, the happy father 
and husband, and the pleased and well brought up youths, 
surrounding them. 

I regretted much that we passed so rapidly through this 
noble country ; but Mr. Fox was pressed for time, and 
without deducting too much for what he had appropriated 
to give to Paris, we could not delay. The impression 
made on my mind, however, was very strong ; and I im- 
bibed, as I passed on, the great practical lesson, that good 
government, which implies sufficient liberty to man, is best 
evinced by its results ; and that a happy, flourishing, and 
independent yeomanry, without the grating extremes of an 
arrogant and super-abounding aristocracy, or, of a misera- 
ble and starving peasantry, is the most gratifying sight for 
a lover of his fellow-creatures, of social order in its true 
sense, and for a believer in that sacred religion, which en- 
joins mercy, charity, and moderation, a lesson as imperious 
and requiring to be followed by the government and 
crowaed heads, as by the people. As we passed along I 
observed that Mr. Fox had lately made himself master of 
the theory and practice of agriculture more than I had 



M 

been aware of, and his observations were equally pertinent 
and strong upon those subjects. His mind was, perhaps, 
never in greater vigour. He was relieved from the eternal 
and ineffectual clamour of political warfare ; equally at his 
ease, abroad as at home, and conversant with most foreign 
modern languages, this great man was now soaring forth 
on the continent, in the meridian of his glory, where his 
genius and his public virtues, were well understood and 
much respected. The small society he carried with him 
sufficed to make him happy, and his happiness was increas- 
ed, by having contributed to theirs. We brought in the 
coach with us some of Fielding's novels, and I was the 
common reader. 

As we advanced in the Netherlands, smoking was ob- 
served to be more prevalent, and the effect, to me at least, 
was far more ludicrous than picturesque, to behold boys, 
of fourteen or fifteen, with cocked hats upon them, sitting 
under trees smoking. A number of pretty and new 
country houses, a la mode Angloise^ appeared rising up 
here and there. Still, until we got nearer Cassel, % good 
deal of French manner was perceptible. As it was Sun- 
day we saw great numbers of the people, who appeared to 
enjoy themselves very much, and divided into small happy 
parties amidst the hay on the road side, at their doors, or 
in their gardens. I observed with pleasure how fond all 
were of flowers, persons of every age wearing them in their 
breast, or in their hats or caps. Sunday was not rigour- 
ously observed, after prayers were over for the day, as we 
saw some people working, driving carts. Sec. I had ob- 
served that the church at Calais was thinly attended ; but 
at a small village on the road side, we saw great numbers 
of well-dressed people coming out of church. As religion 
had suffered so rude a shock in France, and its dependent 
territories, I was gratified in finding that, at least amongst 
the happy and flourishing scenes of Flanders, respect for 
religious worship had maintained its ground, and that this 
orderly people had not swerved from one of the first and 



S7 

greatest supports of social order and human happiness^ 
The legislator who rashly attempts to undermine this prop 
of society, deserves but the name of innovator : he en« 
deavours to take, from a simple and happy race, that source 
of consolation which he cannot replace, and he labours to 
make them precisely what he would desire to avoid, tur- 
bulent, unprincipled and factious : — he throws from his 
hands one of the surest means of preserving order and re- 
gularity, and having stripped the vessel of her helm, hopes 
that she will be otherwise guided or governed. 

The Flemings have always been attached to the Roman 
Catholic religion, their faith bordering on superstition ; 
but if we may judge by effects, we might pronounce, that 
that religion has been as favourable, in a moral and reli- 
gious view, to their happiness and well doing, as their 
agriculture and their independence have been to their tem- 
poral and w^orldly prosperity. As we approached Cassel 
we were much astonished, (and still more when we began 
the ascent) at the extraordinary and almost boundless ex- 
tent of view which expanded around us. The situation o£ 
Cassel is quite unique'. It is seated on a hill, or rather 
small mountain, commanding one of the finest agricultural 
countries in the world. Towns, cities, villages, rivers, 
and that vast champaign of cultivated land, spreading in 
every direction, surprized and delighted us in no common 
degree. Mr. Fox was much and highly gratified at thii 
grand panorama of nature, and enjoyed it, as he did every 
other thing, as much as the youngest of the party. Our 
way had lain through a rich and admirably -cultivated 
country, abounding with wheat, barley, flax, hemp, peas, 
&c. &c. 

The elevation of Cassel very happily and peculiarly ter- 
minated our first day's journey. Cassel is an old irregular 
town, but the commanding view, from every point, well 
compensates for the fatigue of the ascent, and the want of 
'beauty in the town. The succeeding morning presented a 

H 



5S 



sight very diverting, as it was that of a fete or faira The 
town was filled with the good Flemings, whose grotesque 
figures and cumbrous dress, offered a thousand living pic- 
tures worthy of the pencil of Teniers, I was much pleased 
with them, for it is always more advantageous and instruc- 
tive to study originals than copies. The church bore some 
marks of revolutionary fury. It was full of decent people, 
honest, good citizens, and pious catholics. Their sincerity 
in devotion was obvious, and highly to be respected. I 
shall not easily forget the expressi®n of horror in the coun- 
tenance of a female (I believe of some religious order) 
when I was observing the marks of shot upon the front of 
the church. She v/as meanly dressed, but of an interesting 
figure, she did not speak, but her eyes first raised to heaven 
with a sort of indignant appeal, were then cast on the 
church, she then passed on. This pious female's horror 
doubtless was well founded. The excesses of a licentious 
military are in no case more to be reprobated than in the 
outraging the house of God, or the mansions of the dead. 
The general who permits it, saps the foundation of disci- 
pline and government; and he who encourages it, tends 
directly to dissolve the bonds of sotiety, as well as affront 
the laws of God. When I have reflected upon the anguish 
of this poor religieiise^ I have become more and more con- 
firmed in the idea, that to wound the religious feelings and 
prejudices of human beings, is one of the worst species of 
cruelty to our fellow-creatures. I would not disturb the 
simple Indian in his homage to the Deity, or injure the 
humble temple he raised to his honour, on any considera= 
tion. In sacred matters the mind of man spurns at con- 
tumely, with a degree of bitterness which springs from an 
inherent sense of his independence in such things, and a 
consciousness that no human power can prescribe, still less 
insult, religion, her worship, and her laws. 

The Flemings seemed to me always so much in earnest 
ill religion, that I liked them much. I saw here a convent 
entirely dismantled, and its garden desti-oyed : convents 



59 



having beqn all abolished without exception. How far a 
modification, instead of the violent, and in most instances 
cruel plan of total destruction would have been preferable, 
I shall not discuss. Certainly, a sudden overthrow of an- 
cient establishments occasions, in all cases, much misery, 
and in religious ones peculiar sorrows. Those who have 
long lived secluded, feel unwillingness and pain in return- 
ing to the bustle of common life : their habits have all 
formed themselves to a contemplative one ; their avoca- 
tions are entirely diiferent from those of others ; and their 
devotion to the service of God, has rendered the common 
pursuits of the world insipid, if not unpalatable. Females, 
in such a case, of noble or genteel families, and those of a 
devout and sublime cast of mind, are peculiar objects of 
compassion. 

As it was the fair day, we saw, previous to our depar- 
ture, a great number of people assembled in the market- 
place. The cattle, particularly the cows, were very fine, 
and the horses of a great size; but the pigs were most 
miserable in appearance and condition — ^a fact which very 
ill agreed v/ith the excellent farming we had witnessed. 
In the fair, hats, shoes, a great profusion of ready-made 
clothes, earthen ware, shawls, muslins, cottons, buckles, 
baskets, coarse linen, and woollen stockings^ were exhibited 
for sale. The inn at Cassel afforded every thing very good, 
though there v/as not much elegance in the house or fur- 
niture. 

The descent, on leaving Cassel, was equally beautiful 
and extraordinary with the ascent; and we continued on 
our way to Lisle to pass through a finely-cultivated country, 
whose rich crops of wheat, oats, &c. waved in full lux- 
uriance before us ; amongst which I observed one of the 
poppies, which had a beautiful effect. We this day com- 
menced our readings. I began Joseph Andrews ; the day, 
however, had become extremely hot, and made this less 
pleasant than otherwise. Mr. Fox was much amused by 



60 

our book ; and though we all subsequently agreed as to the 
vulgarity, a little too prevalent in Fielding's novels, yet 
his faithful and admirable paintings from human nature 
afforded us great pleasure. The introduction of such an 
author upon our journey, when the monotony of a road, or 
part of the country, would otherwise have fatigued, was 
very agreeable. For my part, I enjoyed Mr. Fox's lively 
remarks on Fielding a great deal ; and, as I never made 
obsequiousness to his opinions a part of my conduct, I dis- 
sented from him occasionally with perfect freedom ; and so 
happy was his disposition, so entirely exempt from any kind 
of impatience, or assumption of superiority, that he relish- 
ed conversation the more, and seemed better satisfied on 
finding that independence of opinion in his own small circle, 
which, in a narrow or larger sphere of life, gives the best; 
zest to society. 

At these times his conversation was playful, and natural 
in a high degree ; and, as in all other things, the most mi- 
nute touch of nature never escaped him. As Mrs. Fox's 
good-nature never allowed me to have an uneasy moment, 
and as she disdained to give superfluous trouble, we rattled 
along in a very pleasant manner, going through Billeul, an 
ugly town, and some other country towns, and, with the 
help of Joseph Andrews, found not a weary moment. In 
most of these towns I observed the tree of liberty planted 
and growing, This memorial of the fury of late events 
recalled many unpleasant ideas. It stood as evidence of 
the weakness, and of the miseries of man, and shewed that 
when he aims at theoretic perfection, and legislates with 
the phrenzy of an innovator, his efforts for the melioration 
of his condition must all be futile In most places the tree 
of liberty, though undisturbed, looked sickly; and as least 
a glance on its fading leaves, I could not but think of th^ 
sublime apostrophe made by liberty in her last agonies, by 
one ot the very brightest of France's ornaments, in her 
revolutionary days, Madame Roland. Yet the excesses 
into which the French were driven, ar? not less entitled to 



41 

pity than to blame ; and I have often thought that thos& 
guilty and profligate governments, which have since affected 
to derive strength from this deplorable manifestation of 
the people's rage and extravagance, ought rather to have 
imbibed asalutarylesson, andhave felt that the tremendous 
castigation which thus falls upon a government, is sooner 
or later the inevitable result of its own blind misconduct : 
but men in power are seldom endowed with feelings liberal 
enough to do justice to the middle and lower classes of 
men, or they are too hypocritical to admit the truth. The 
exasperation of the multitude seldom exceeds the boun- 
daries of law and order, till they feel convinced that their 
complaints are, unavailing; and the pressure of taxation 
co-operating, they rush forward, and if they do not jusdy 
correct their rulers, they at least afford a v/arning to pos- 
terity, that moderation best secures a government, and 
that corruption cannot withstand popular despair Yet the 
faded tree of liberty filled me with sorrow. I sighed over 
the inevitable result of the revolution in France, arising 
from the preponderance of bad men and turbulent factions. 
The tree is faded, thought I, but the rights of man will 
endure for ever. Dynasties may be erected, generals be- 
come monarchs, the people be depressed, but liberty is 
enthroned in the heart of man, is the boon of his Creator, 
and the cloudless jewel of life. Liberty will revive, and 
when the despot sleeps beneath his pompous monument, 
will bestow on millions precious gifts. As we approached 
JLisle, I shut Joseph Andrews, and a new scene opened 
before me. 



CHAPTER V. 



ON entering Lisle, a difference was very manifi^st 
between it and the towns and country we had lately passed. 
Every thing here was French. The people, the dresses, 
and manners were no longer Flemish. The town is large 
and handsome, though somewhat decayed, and the carved 
stone fronts of most of the houses in the great square have 
a very rich effect, It is said to have contained before the 
revolution 76,000 inhabitants, now, however, but 53,000. 
There were 3000 troops in it. I saw about twelve or 
fifteen exceeding good hackney coaches, but not one gen- 
tleman's carriage ,• and this is the more remarkable, because 
there were formerly not less than three hundred of the 
noblesse in it. This was one of the first striking effects 
of a revolution which had cost so much blood. In the 
year 1802, that revolution having performed the various 
changes in its eccentric course, approached its term. A 
new dynasty was then silently raising its head, and pre- 
paring^ upon the improved and regenerated state, to erect 
one of the most imposing political superstructures that has 
ever appeared. The nobility in Lisle had disappeared, 
and, doubtless, when that order becomes so ridiculoui and 
numerous as it had become under the latter Bourbons, it 
calls for reform and change; but the destruction of the 
privileged orders requires in time that it be replaced by 
some others. 



63 

Every possible attention was paid to Mr. Fox at Lisle 5 
the municipal officers waited upon, and the inhabitants, 
and officers quartered there, vied with each other in po- 
liteaess. He was invited on the day succeeding his arri- 
val, to a public dinner, given by the town, and I believe, 
the garrison united, and consequently we remained a day 
longer than we had intended. On the morning of this day 
we saw the library and collection of pictures, neither of 
which are very remarkable : as also the central school, at 
which are taught drawing, natural history, mathematics, 
physics, history and chemistry. These schools, which 
have national support, I understand are not popular, and 
none but the poorest people send their children to them. 
In matters of education it is often found, that where the 
government interferes, the intended object is not attained. 
The pride and the prejudices of the people act against 
them : and unles in the higher departments of education,^ 
where the system is good and under the immediate en- 
couragement of the head of the government, instruction is 
deemed rather of an eleemosynary nature, and the dispens- 
ing it, as well as the general management, is apt to be con- 
verted into a job. 

A pleasant incident occurred on the morning of our se- 
cond day at Lisle. The waiter threw open the door of 
our apartment, announcing lieutenant-general O'Mara. A 
large and fine figure of a man, in full regimentals, entered 
and introduced himself to Mr. Fox. He was an Irish- 
man, or rather of Irish extraction, having been born in 
France, and having served in the French armies since his 
earliest youth. He had naturally desired to see Mr. Fox, 
and hoped, through his good offices, to be allowed a short 
time of leave to behold what he considered his native land. 
Reader, imagine, that strength of feeling, that sympathy 
and yearning for one's country, which this brave officer 
felt ! ! He spoke a little English, and, what is singular, 
with an Irish brogue ; and this was a peculiarity which as 
I was assured, he showed in ^ommon with many other 



64 



persons of Irish extraction, who had been born in, and had 
never been out of, France. Mr. Fox, with his usual com- 
placency, remarked to the general, that I was his com- 
patriote^ when he instantly addressed a few words of the 
Irish or Celtic language to me. I was sorry I could not 
reply to him in the same. The general expressed the 
strongest desire to behold Ireland ; he felt for it, as if all 
his friends were there, as if he recollected them, and 
wished to revisit them. He was agreeable, and had that 
warmth and openness which distinguish the Irish so much 
in their manners, and which, accompanied by educa- 
tion, and softened by travelling, make Irish gentlemen in- 
ferior to none others in society. Mr. and Mrs. Fox were 
much pleased and entertained by the general's visit ; and I 
felt a peculiar sentiment of respect for this brave man, 
who, bred up in the midst of the most polished nation on 
the continent, and long used to the bustle of arms, yet re- 
membered v/ith veneration and aifection the land of his 
ancestors, the island whose name and story was still held 
in respect upon the continent of Europe. 

At dinner time we repaired to a handsome building erect- 
ed for public uses, and I now, for the first time, felt my- 
self in French society. Every thing was pleasing, and 
certainly the inhabitants of Lisle appeared to me in a very 
advantageous point of view in giving this entertainment to 
Mr. Fox. There was an independent and voluntary air 
through the whole of it. After some conversation in the 
apartments belov/, we ascended to a large room, where a 
very elegant and plentiful dinner was tastefully arranged. 
I found myself placed beside my worthy compatriote, the 
general, who did not not fail, in plying me with bumpers 
©f various and excellent wines, to prove his kindness, and 
his claim to the hospitable character of countryman. 

After dinner the toasts were given with discharges of 
cannon, and were all of a conciliatory, pacific complexion, 
^' Peace between the two great nations of Europe," \yas 



m 

giveii^ and there was evident throughout a wish to compli- 
ment the English, and a desire to mark an oblivion of all 
hostility between the two rival countries. It was a de- 
lightful moment! Every angry passion banished — the 
miseries the two nations had endured in a long period of 
vexatious and unnecessary war, were ascribed to ill coun- 
cils of ministers, and to the heats and fury of the day — a 
reconcilation between two great families in society effected 
—the members of both, anxious to embrace and willing to 
forget — this, crowned by the inhabitants of one of the 
most celebrated towns on the continent giving a free, pub- 
lic, and affectionate mark of reverence and regard for the 
great statesman of England, the friend of peace, and advo- 
cate of the rights of mankind, was a happy and truly 
delicious hour. Such things seldom occur ; but when they 
do, existence seems to have double value, or rather to 
them confer that happiness intended by the Creator, and 
so perversely marred by the schemes of rash and unfeeling 
politicians. The hilarity evinced by the inhabitants and 
military on this occasion, was in no degree affected. The 
relief which peace had brought, seemed to be strongly felt 
by every one ; and the opportunity afforded by Mr. Fox's 
presence in that town, was hailed as a gracious and good 
omen ick a long course of enjoyment of all those endearing 
and mutual good ofEces, between tv/o great nations, which 
peace ensures, and which war had so long impeded. 

In the evening a play was given in compliment to their 
guest, by the company at dinner. The hour of its com- 
mencement was the moment of our rising from the dinner 
table. All then was animating. A French gentleman, 
taking me by the arm, conducted me to the theatre. Mr. 
and Mrs. Fox were already there. Free admission was 
given, of course, to all Mr. Fox's friends, and every thing 
was conducted in the most pleasing manner, and with the 
most marked and refined attention to their illustrious 
guest. When we had returned to our hotel, the military^ 
band gave a most charming serenade* 



66 

The niglit was very fine, the musick very good, and tke 
whole day had been so pleasurable and gratifyiRg, that this 
additional and elegant compliment formed a conciusiom 
very suitable to it. Mn Fox received all these marks of 
deference and politeness, with that simple and unaffected 
manner usual to him, but by no means with insensibility. 
An ignorant spectator might have imagined that he was 
cold in his manner of receiving the flattering attentions of 
those who admired his character, but this was occasioned 
by the innate modesty of his nature, as I had more than 
once an opportunity of observing that he unwillingly as- 
cribed to himself any of that merit of an extraordinary kind, 
which drew forth the admiration of others. This great 
man had no craving desire for popular applause, no 
hungering after praise ; and I believe, if he found any 
thing distressing on public occasions, it was the demon- 
stration of approbation, which an admiring audience be- 
stowed upon him. Feeling, however, for him all those 
sentiments of gratitude and attachment, which his cha- 
racter and great and amiable qualities inspired, I retired 
for the night, pleased, and charmed, with the conduct of 
the inhabitants of Lisle, and not without some reflections 
upon the blindness of Englishmen, who too late were be- 
ginning to recognise the singular merit of Charles James 
Fox. 

The next morning we set out on our way to Ghent i 
the country was still more superb, if I may use a French 
term, than that surrounding Cassel. A scene so rich was 
a continual source of wonder to us : all the land yielding 
immense crops ; all the people appearing happy } and now 
seeming to labour beyomi moderation. — -The houses all 
good, comfortable, and well furnished. It was difficult to 
abstain a moment from looking upon this noble picture of 
plenty and happiness. Joseph Andrews was, however, 
resumed, and as the heat, and dust, became unpleasant, 
we occasionally let down the blinds, and our time glided 
pleasantly on. As we approached Ghent the appearance 



67 



of the country Improved, and became still more beautiful ; 
small farms, well enclosed, very pretty country houses, and 
a good deal of wood in the midst of the golden harvest I 
have described, rendered the approach to Ghent quite 
delightful. We entered Ghent. It is a large and magni= 
ficent town. The houses are lofty and venerable, as well 
from the grandeur of their appearance, as from their anti- 
quity. At the inn where we stopped every thing was in 
this character. The spirit of departed greatness seemed 
to stalk through every room j every thing, too, looked lar- 
ger than things in modern use. In a parlour on the ground 
floor I observed a harpsichord, of huge size, with large 
clawed guilt feet and legs — the windows and doors were 
all of great dimensions, and the scenery was well adapted 
for that wild, yet captivating species of romance writing 
which, from Mrs. RadclifFe's pen, produced so much effect. 
In Ghent, too, Charles the Fifth, that extraordinary cha- 
racter, uniting so many extremes in itself, was born and 
often resided. This gave very additional interest to this 
grand, though desolate town. There is a sort of pictur» 
esque of the mind created, or at least aided by the ima- 
gination, which is amazingly heightened, and vivified, by 
the remembrance of a great departed character ; but if, in 
addition to the qualities ordinarily exciting admiration, an 
incident or trait of character, in unison with all the scenery 
presenting itself to the senses, is recollected, and if all the 
impressions be of the melancholy cast in a peculiar degree, 
nothing is wanting to make the effect complete. Who does 
not recollect the last sad scenes of Charleses life ? Who 
can view without commiseration the weakness, and de- 
plorable end of a monarch, whose arms, and negotiations, 
had pervaded and aifected three quarters of the globe ? 
His abdication of the throne, however, never inspired me 
with respect. Disgusted, and satiated with power, Charles 
resigned what he had ceased to enjoy, and regretted the 
loss of what he fancied he had despised. He insured no 
extension of happiness to his people, but consigned them 
to his son with indifference for their welfare, and with all 



6? 

the pride of a great proprietor, who, lin the transfer he 
makes of his possessions, feels a display of his own power 
and consequence. Still Charles has cliarns upon our 
sympathy,, — ^he was unfortunate — his health had become 
wretched— in the society of his son he had no pleasure — ' 
his views were thwarted by his brother— and he found 
himself at length in the decline of life with few or no 
friends — neglected, unhappy, and alone in a mercenary 
world. His religion tinctured by the gloomy ideas of a 
wounded mind, did not afford him the consolation he had 
fondly expected. His great mistake was in supposing 
that he could be happy without occupation, or that the 
calm pursuits of secluded life could be enjoyed by a mind 
constituted and fashioned like his. 

Had Charles reserved these parts of Flanders and 
Ghent to himself, and employed his time in the active im- 
provements of agriculture and manufacture, he would have 
been less miserable ; but, unfortunately, his health, already 
much broken, was rendered worse by the moist and change- 
able climate of these countries. Perhaps, even such oc- 
cupation would have been insipid to a restless mind, and 
in every situation the conclusion of Charles's life would 
have taught us how vain is the idea that happiness is en- 
joyed by those who possess supreme power, and all its 
attendant perplexities. The intrusion of these reflections 
may, perhaps, be more readily pardoned, when it is con- 
sidered of how different a character was the truly great 
man with whom I was then travelling. Mr. Fox, of 
transcendant abilities, and of a far superior tone of mind 
to Charles the 5th, possessed all those qualities which fit- 
ted him to enjoy a rural and philosophical life. Filled 
with no insatiable desire to dictate to others, but well ap- 
preciating the emptiness of rank and power, he rested 
alone, with full satisfaction, on the enjoyments of friend- 
ship, of literature, and of the country. Thus, what made 
other great men miserable, made him happy. Retirement 
was his season of joy. The lovely volume of nature, anjd 



6S^ 

its best transcript, true piety, were then his solace, and 
never-failing sources of delight. Charles, in his monas- 
tery, and Fox, at St. Anne's Hill, were contrasts of the 
most striking nature. The one solitary, gloomy, and 
trifling, almost nauseating the existence conferred by his 
Creator, and chagrined at neglect which he ought to have 
expected and despised : the other the most affectionate of 
men, happy in his domestic circle, even improving his 
great capacity, by converse with every thing of departed 
genius— anxious for the welfare of his country, and of the 
world-— thankful for every blessing of life, contented with 
a little— 'delighting in, and truly enjoying rural life— and 
totally unruffled by the ingratitude or neglect of man, 
whose opinions he disdained to consider worth a moment's 
thought. In fact, it is retirement which is the test of a 
truly great mind ; and I may venture to assert, that none 
can deny that Mr. Fox bore it, and enjoyed it, in a man- 
ner nothing inferior to the highest characters of antiquity ; 
and I can certainly testify, that no man could have less 
impatience for busy life, no man v»'as more entirely or un- 
affectedly happy at home. 

The place d'armes in Ghent is handsome : the cathe« 
dral is grand, and ornamented to profusion ; though as its 
best pictures had been taken away by the French, there 
was a great deficiency in some parts of it. The abbey of 
St. Peter, a ci-devant church, was converted into a school 
of painting : we saw many pictures there, but no good 
ones. We visited at Ghent, a very interesting and excel- 
lent establishment— the residence of the Beguines. These 
are religious females, about six hundred in number, who 
live very happily and respectably, and do every charitable 
pfjice they can in the town. Their residence consists of 
a sort of square, and in its centre they have a very neat 
and handsome small church. Each Beguine has two neat 
apartments, and in general they live separately. I have 
seldom seen any thing more pleasing than this select reli- 
gious establishment. The women were drest with great 



70 



plainness and neatness ; they seemed cheerful, obliging, 
and respectable to a great degree ; were of the middle 
class, and in most of their apartments birds, flowers-, and 
works of a tasteful kind wtm seen. I thnik, that in pro- 
testant countries there is a strong and unjust prejudice 
against such societies. What bond is so good to regul&te, 
to unite, and to harmonize, as the christian religion ? and 
if individuals choose to live a retired and tranquil life, 
suitable to their taste and character, — called for by past 
misfortunes, or rendered necessary for economical purpo- 
ses, what unprejudiced person can refuse them respect and 
esteem ? I was very much gratified at beholding so many 
amiable and happy females, whose countenances spoke 
tranquillity and benevolence, and whose little m.ansions 
were the abodes of peace, comfort and decency. At 
Ghent the municipal officers waited on Mr. Fox, with 
every demonstration of respect. 

On his remarking to the prefect, that the farms near 
Ghent looked rich and beautiful, he observed, that the 
soil was not naturally good, '^ tout est fait,''* said he, "/?ar 
r Industrie^ et la patience de l^homme^'' for, he added that 
almost all the soil was literally carried to these farms. 
This was certainly not only a proof of industry, but also of 
that great attention to agriculture, which has so long, and 
justly, distinguished Flanders. 

Ghent Itself is a grand and affecting monument of the 
great prosperity of this once independent, and most re- 
spectable people. This ancient capital of the Netherlands, 
having lost its manufactures has fallen into melancholy 
decay, but it manifests what a great agricultural country, 
with a due proportion of internal manufactures, may do 
independent, or nearly independent, of foreign trade. I 
contemplated this respectable remain of Flemish grandeur 
with reverence and pity. I reviewed the long line 
of honest and patriotic characters who had once resided 
in it, and whose dust now slept within its walls ; men, who 



71 



fnom the time of the Romans, under Charlemagne, under 
the houses of Burgundy and Austria, had maintained the 
dignity of man, and his rights, both civil and religious ; 
who had not been ambitious of conquest, but, satisfied with 
liberty, and solid comfort, had promoted the cultivation of 
a fertile and noble country, and derived their own wealth 
and happiness chiefly from that legitimate source of pros- 
perity; who had lived contented with solid good, and de- 
spised external show, and empty fame ; who had yielded 
just obedience to government, but resisted, steadily and 
courageously, all innovation and oppression. We paid to 
the manes of these patriots the sincere and warm homage 
of a heart attached to liberty, and little inclined to worship 
thrones, or languish in servile dependence upon ministers ! 
Ghent, in the year 1802, was reviving in a small degree^ 
and may recover some portion of its former grandeur : 
but, as it no longer possesses the constitution, under which 
it, and the surrounding country, flourished for ages, a full 
restoration of its prosperity can never be expected, and, 
perhaps, the ^reat progress of other countries in agricul- 
ture and manufactures would forbid its ever attaining so 
great opulence in modern times. 

Leaving Ghent on the day after our arj-ival there, we 
travelled through a continuation of the same rich and 
noble country as we had before seen. Every thing was in 
unison ; farms, houses, cattle, harvest, a respectable and 
well-clad race of people, and no miserable mansioa, no 
wretched family to distress the feelings, or shock the eye ! 

We found this day very hot; and as we were obliged 
to draw the blinds, Joseph Andrews was resumed, and, in 
the course of our day's journey, finished. Towards even- 
ing we came in view of Antwerp. Entering a flat and 
uninteresting country, we now bid farewell to that glorious 
scene which had so much and so long enchanted ; where: 
agriculture had showered down all her gifts, seconded by 
nature, and the long-enjoyed independence of the country. 



n 

We had passed through the finest part of Flanders, in the 
time of harvest, and had, of course, seen it to the greatest 
advantage. The luxuriance and abundance were astonish- 
ing ; immense fields of wheat, barley, and oats ; tracts of 
potatoes, flax, hemp, beans, peas, and coleseed : some hops, 
fine clover, buckwheat, and madder, formed the principal 
crops, all good and perfectly clean. In some parts good 
hedges, and a good deal of timber, were to be observed. 
Above all, and it cannot be too much dwelt upon, when it 
is considered of what it was the result, a numerous and 
happy population ! And all this fine country acquired by 
France ; this vast acquisition of strength to her empire, 
conferred on her by the blunders, and the blind fury of 
the allied powers. No consequence of the fatal system 
of threatening the very existence of France, as a nation, 
among many lamentable ones, has been more injurious 
than that of the annexation of the Netherlands to that 
power. The fertility of the soil, and excellence of its 
agriculture ; the value of an orderly domestic people as 
good subjects : the convenience of its situation; as well as 
the diminution of power, in the state which had so long 
governed it, all contributed to make this acquisition the 
most desirable to France, and far preferable to distant 
conquests of treble the territory. The secretary of the 
Portuguese minister informed us, too, that the country 
along the Rhine about Coblentz was nothing inferior, in 
riches, population, and agriculture, to that which we had 
seen. 

It is not very surprising that France, thus early strength- 
ened and enriched, made so formidable a figure against 
the allies ; subsequently, too, she fought upon their terri- 
tories, thus growing richer and more warlike in every bat- 
tle, whilst they carried on a war at an immense expense, 
without any definable or tangible object. Since we left Cas- 
sel, we found the weather extremely hot ; but as it was very 
advantageous for the harvest of the good and industrious 



7* 

Flemings we did not repine : in general the climate re- 
sembles that of England* ^^ 

The evening fell fast, and night approached as we ar- 
rived on the banks of the Scheld, opposite Antwerp. The 
moon had risen, and as the river is nearly a mile broad 
here, the town formed a fine appearance on the opposite 
shore. Our passage was very pleasing. The lofty build- 
ings and spires of Antwerp seemed to rise from the wa- 
ters. The waters trembled as they lightly swelled beneath 
the placid moon. I got to the head of the boat, and gave 
myself up to a crowd of thoughts. The great city we 
were approaching had undergone the several vicissitudes 
of fortune, and, depending totally upon external commerce, 
had sunk under its loss* I shall see another great town, 
thought I ! another memorial of the fallacy of human 
grandeur ! I shall see the remains of human industry and 
power ! The boat stole across the river, and at nine o'clock 
we landed. The gates were shut, and we found a slight 
difficulty in getting admittance, which was soon obviated. 
The next morning, much as I had admired the respectable 
and grand appearance of Ghent, I was filled with astonish- 
ment at the superb streets and houses, which offered them- 
selves to my eyes; both were in just proportion to each 
other- — the streets wide and very long, and the houses hav- 
ing, in the best parts of the town, the air of palaces. The 
folding doors and large windows, the lofty and antique 
air of these mansions, and the regularity of this great and 
once most populous city, were very imposing to English 
eyes. 

Antwerp was, however, as well as Ghent, a striking ex- 
hibition of fallen grandeur. The streets were silent, and 
grass grew in many parts ; the busy stir of man was want- 
ing to animate this immense collection of buildings : no 
roll of carriages manifested the opulence and luxury of the 
inhabitants, the sound of the human voice was little heard, 
and those animals attendant on man were «ot sgep. The 



74 

women, wearing long pieces of black stufF thrown round 
their shoulders as a scarf, made a singular appearance, and 
Mr. Fox noticed it to me as such, and intimated that it 
had always been the dress: it has a disagreeable effect; 
but the custom has its origin, doubtless, from a long pe- 
riod back. As the Scheld, however, was just opened, 
there were some symptoms of reviving commerce, and 
Antwerp has, most probably, ere now, assumed a lively 
appearance ; although it will require a long time to restore 
the population, and give energy to the whole mass of this 
deserted but magnificent city. The municipal officers 
waited on Mr. Fox, and we passed the day very agreeably 
in seeing every thing deserving of attention at Antwerp, 
but these are too well known to require full enumeration. 
The cathedral is very fine. We saw three good collec- 
tions of pictures, and the academy of paintings. The 
French carried away Reuben's best pictures from hence, 
but two very fine ones have been returned. We did not 
see the citadel, which we understobd was in a good state. 
The idea of building ships and restoring the French ma- 
rine, at Antwerp, though in its infancy when we rested 
there, was, however, strong and prevalent. 

If my readers can pardon the introduction of trifles, 
and my classical ones imagine the delight I felt at reading 
passages of the iEneid of Virgil with Mr, Fox, they will 
excuse my mention of another little course of reading on 
this short tour, on account of the valued name of him, un- 
happily for the world, no more. I had begun the iEneid 
at Sto Anne's Hill previous to our setting out, and had ad- 
vanced a good way in it before we set off. I continued 
my reading as opportunity allowed, and Mr. Fox never 
received greater pleasure than when I ventured to point 
out passages which pleased me. Of Virgil's JEntid he 
was a true admirer ; and the tincture of melancholy which 
he thought ran through his work, was by no means dis- 
pleasing to him. At Antwerp we finished the 8th book 
of the xEneid. Of all the passages relating to EvAnder 



75 

and his son, Mr. Fox was very fond. The affection au 
appeal to heaven of the anxious father we read together 
with mutual interest. 

At vos, 6 super! et divum ta inaxime rector 
Jupiter, Arcadii quseso raiserescite regis, 
Et patrias audite preces x si numina vestra 
Ineolumem Pallanta mihi, si fata reservant. 
Si visurus eum vivo, et venturus in unum ; 
Vitam oro : patiar queravis durare laborem. 
Sin aliquem infandum casum, fortuna, minaris ; 
Nunc 6, nunc liceat, ci'udelem abrumpere vitam^ 
Dum curse ambigu^, dum spes incerta futuri, 
Dum te, care puer, mea sei^a et sola voluptas, 
Complexu tenco ; gi-avior ne nuntius aures 
Vulneret." 

This passage, and the fine ending of the 8th book, 
charmed some of our moments at Antwerp ; where, as we 
staid an entire day, and it was extremely hot, I got 
through the 9th book of the jEneid also, having the same 
kind and enlightened commentator to refer to. The ini- 
mitable episodes of Nisus and Euryalus gave us great and 
renewed pleasure. The melancholy lamentation of the 
mother of Euryalus, I have before me, marked as it was 
read at Antwerp. 

** Hunc ego te, Euryale, aspicio .' tunc ilia senectjc 
Sera mese requies potuisti linquere solam, 
Crudelis ? nee te, sub tanta pericula missum, 
Affari extremum miserse data copia matri ? 
Heu terra ignota canibus data prteda Latinis 
Alitibusque jaces ! nee te tua funera mater 
Produxi pressive oculos, aut vulnera lavi, 
Veste tegens ; tibi quam noctes festina diesque 
I Urgebam, et tela curas solabar aniles. 

Quo sequar ? aut quae nunc artus avulsaque membra 
Et funus lacerum tellus habet ? hoe mihi de te. 
Nates refer ? hoe sum terraque marique secuta ? 
Figite me, si qua est pietas : in me omnia tela 
Conjicite, 6 Rutuli ! meprimam absuraite ferro. 
Aut tu, magne pater divum, miserere, tuoque 
Invisum hoc detrude caput sub Tartara telo : 
Quando alitibr nequeo cmdelem abrumpere vit&n^* 



76 



The tenderness of Mr. Fox's heart manifested itself by 
his always dwelling, in poetry, with peculiar pleasure upon 
domestic and affecting traits of character, when happily 
pourtrayed by the author. The choice I had made of the 
iEneid proved most gratifying to myself, and was agreea- 
ble to Mr. Fox. Perhaps, when the malevolent and igno- 
rant supposed this great man preparing to pay his court 
to the first consul of France, he was then with genuine 
feeling, examining some beauty in the JEne'idy and adding 
to its lustre by his own remarks. One cannot forget 
guch things, where such a man was an actor. Antwerp 
remains impressed on my memory ; but it is Antwerp with 
Mr. Fox in it, dilating with warmth upon the amiable and 
engaging character of Evander, enjoying Virgil with all 
the warmth of a young ingenuous mind, and not disdain- 
ing to listen to the opinions, and to enter indulgently into 
the feelings of one, every way his inferior, and far remov- 
ed in regard both to age and rank. 

My readers will, in the concluding pages of this work, 
observe, that this classical taste, and fondness for the ten- 
der parts of the -^neid, endured to the closing moments 
of Mr. Fox's life. In all this kind of devotion to poetry, 
in him, there was not a glimpse of vanity perceptible, al- 
though his memory and discrimination had made him mas- 
ter of all the best of the ancient and modern poets, so as to be 
superior to most men in conversing upon, and examining 
their merits ; yet he would sometimes appear to be in- 
structed, and listen with satisfaction to remarks of little 
value ! The subject he liked at all times, and if it were 
not treated with much ability or knowledge, still he re- 
spected the wish in another to understand, and discover 
the beauties of those charming poets, whose works afford 
so rich a source of amusement and improvement to man- 
kind. Where there was but a latent gem of taste, Mr, 
Fox loved to encourage and to foster it, by example and 
approbation, into growth and expansion. The heart- 
rending tale of Nisus and Euryalus, obliterated, in no dis^ 



77 



^reeable manner, the reflections I had been making upon 
the past and present state of Antwerp. In pointing out 
to Mr. Fox the abandonment of the mother of Euryalusto 
despair, I was quite gratified to find that he admired the 
passage as I did ; and I was not at all ashamed of the 
tears which fell for the fate of Euryalus, and my forget- 
fulness of the great and pompous city in the middle of 
which I then was. 

I could not, however, bid adieu to Antwerp, without re- 
gretting that this beautiful city had so long suffered from 
the policy of commercial greediness. If I may be allowed to 
designate Ghent as the inland capital, and Antwerp as the 
maritime one of the old Netherlands, one can never testify 
sufficient admiration at these stupendous erections of a 
respectable and independent people, or sufficient regret at 
their degradation and decay : neither possess, now, much 
more than a quarter of their ancient population ; and, as 
independent cities, they are never destined to rise again. 
Such are the vicissitudes of states, and small ones more 
especially are liable to great and improbable changes. 

As we descended the stair-case of our lofty, and princely 
inn, I closed the -£neid, and we proceeded on our journey 
towards Holland. We now travelled through a flat and 
disagreeable country : the golden plains of Austrian Flan- 
ders no longer waved before us ; and as we advanced, the 
way became less and less pleasing. Every thing was now 
quickly growing Dutch; the dress of the people, the dull 
flatness of the country, announced a great change. It was 
curious, nevertheless, to hear, as we did, from our posti- 
lions, that we were still, though a considerable vvay beyond 
Antwerp, in the territory of France I 

This enormous extension of territory could not fail to 
surprise, because, however well things are understood 
upon paper, if we are inclined to diminish an evil, or to 
deny its existence, we delude our minds into an oblivion 



78 



©f circumstances and facts, and often proceed, by new er- 
rors, to wipe away the stinging remembrance of former 
ones. But France stretching beyond Antwerp— .the inde- 
pendence of Holland become a vain and illusory idea, — 
such melancholy knowledge forced upon one with ocular 
demonstration— was proof, presented to English eyes, of 
the extent and existence of an evil, now irreparable, and 
which no ministerial declamation can palliate or cure. Mr. 
Fox himself could not refrain from a smile, and his look 
was not a little expressive, when, beyond Antwerp, we 
were, told it was still France. However he might regret 
the vast increase of French territory, his conscienjce was, 
at least, free from all weight : he had, in no manner, been 
accessary in goading on France to madness, and in in- 
flaming her with the retaliating spirit of conquest. His 
simple and early, though much condemned proposal of ac- 
knowledging the French republic, if acceded to, in the 
British parliament, would most probably have prevented 
not only the annexation of Belgium to France, but secured 
the integrity and independence of Holland, and had saved 
other states, which have since fallen, and confined France 
to her ancient boundaries, instead of her becoming a great 
military empire, consolidating itself every year of war, and 
still threatening Europe, whether that war continues, or 
peace intervenes. 

Mr. Fox would have allowed that political effervescence, 
which agitated France, time to evaporate, and paying due 
respect to the feelings of a great nation, would wisely have 
abstained from exasperating them, at the critical moment 
'^ its regeneration. 

We entered Dutch Brabant on leaving the French ter- 
ritory. The roads became heavy and sandy, and the coun- 
try quite uninteresting. We now had recourse to Tom 
Jones, and I read a great deal of that excellent work aloud 
on our way to Breda. Mr. Fox enjoyed it very much. 
Few works, indeed, have more original merit; and al« 



79 

though there may be coarseness and indelicacy in som« 
parts, which Fielding's cast of genius is rather too much 
inclined to, yet his faithful painting from nature always 
gives new and increasing pleasure. Certainly we were 
much indebted to him during our fatiguing journey, 
through the sands on the way to Breda, where at night, 
we were extremely glad to arrive, as the day's journey 
,had been less agreeable by much than any since we had 
left Calais. We rested at a remarkably comfortable and 
good inn, where a neat supper, and some well-made pan- 
cakes refreshed our^ happy little party. Breda is a hand- 
some town : the gardens, attached to a chateau of the 
prince of Orange, are pretty ; the ramparts and fortificai- 
tions are in perfect repair. The church is large and plain, 
but contains a fine monument of count Engelbert, by Mi- 
chael Angelo. The count is represented as having died 
of a consumption, and that fatal disorder is admirably, and 
but too faithfully, delineated by a great master's hand. It 
is a chef (Tceuvre in its way, but as such a work could 
only excite anguish and pain in the breasts of relatives, 
and horror in ordinary spectators, I cannot applaud the 
idea, although this direful spectacle extorted from me much 
admiration for its execution. The church itself looked 
cold and cheerless, and had neither pictures nor ornaments 
of any kind. This of itself denoted a different religion 
from that of the Flemings. The calvinist being the pre- 
vailing one in Holland, we were here first apprized of the 
variatioh at Breda, from the Roman catholic worship of 
the Flemings. Without pronouncing upon the long-con- 
tested points between the ancient catholic, and the modern 
or reformed religion, I cannot help expressing the idea 
that ornament, and the fine productions of the pencil, have 
a pleasing and natural effect in places of worship, where 
human beings adore their Creator. It is a tribute of re- 
spect and affection to the deity, raises the mind, and fre- 
quently recalls it to sacred things. The church at 3reda 
was large, but looked so naked and melancholy, that I was 
glad when we left it; especially as the noble Michael An- 
gelo'« sculpture imparted ideas of the most dismal nature. 



80 



Breda is remarkable as the residence of the Enpjlisk 
exiled monarch Charles II. I viewed it with no respect 
On that account. Charles is one of the instances of men 
whom adversity may render cunning, but not moderate 
and good. He avoided the harsh extremes of his father, 
and the foolish bigotry of his brother, but his principles 
were worse than those of either. His agreeable, and it 
has been said, captivating manners, rendered him a more 
dangerous enemy to the rights of the people. The amia- 
ble and accomplished gentleman was thought incapable of 
deep designs, and his love of pleasure led him to be ima- 
gined the gay friend of cheerfulness and conviviality in so- 
ciety, and averse to cruelty and severity. His reign was, 
however, more dangerous to liberty, as well as to morals, 
than that of any other since the constitution had assumed 
shape and consistency. He attacked both by sap, and the 
mine, and had he lived twenty years longer, the English 
nation would hav^ found it difficult to elude his arts, and 
preserve their long-disputed liberties. The deserted gar- 
dens of the prince of Orange (ci-devant stadtholder) gave 
me another lesson on the fallacy and unsteadiness of human 
grandeur. The stadtholder, in residing in England, had 
abandoned his high station, which a truly great man would 
have preserved, or fallen, gloriously resisting the incursion 
of the French. Leaving Breda, we soon entered Holland, 
having crossed some small rivers, and the Maese, a fine 
and broad one. Gorchum is a pretty little Dutch town, 
and from thence to Vienne there was much cultivation of 
hemp. Having passed the Lech, a beautiful river, we 
began to approach Utrecht. 

The appearance of Holland, that creation of liberty, 
industry, and commerce, though a flat country, and quite 
destitute of the picturesque, is, however, most pleasing to 
any person of reflection and benevolence. Destitute of 
almost every natural advantage, the art and courage of 
man have nearly obviated every difficulty, and supplied 
every want* An humble and contented air was spread 



81 

through the cottages and farms | neatness and comfort 
reigned in them; tranquillity is the characteristic of a 
Dutchman's residence, and his enjoyment, if not great, is 
unalloyed. 

I cannot quite accede to the poet's description of 
Holland. 

** ludustrious habits in each bosom reign, 

And industry begets a love of gain ; 

Hence all the good from opulence that springs. 

With all those ills superfluous treasure brings. 

Are here displayed. Their raucli-loved wealth imparts 

Convenience, plenty, elegance, and arts ; 

Mut tiew them closer, craft and fraud appear, 

E'en liberty itself is bartered here !'* 

Commerce, when carried to excess, like most other 
pursuits of man, becomes pernicious, and productive of 
ill consequences; particular instances, too, of avaricious 
and unfeeling characters engaged in it, may lead to an 
unfavourable opinion of commerce itself; but if any one 
were disposed to deny its amazingly beneficial effects, he 
has but to look at Holland to be convinced that he is 
Wrong Without it, the Dutch could not have achieved 
or maintained their independence ; they did not possess 
fertile land, similar to their neighbours, nor was their 
population great. Industry and naval pre-eminence were 
the only pillars upon which they could rest securely, and 
commerce supplied them. 

As we began to approach the city of Utrecht by a noble 
canal, a new scene began to present itself. On every side, 
country-houses, gardens, and pleasure-grounds, not infe- 
rior to those delightful ones which for so many miles or- 
nament the banks of the Thames, adorned this canal. I 
was pleasingly surprised to behold so much rural elegance 
in these Dutch villas. Very pretty summer-houses, be- 
longing to each, were placed on the edge of the canal ; 
and these were the favourite places for the families to en- 



82 



joy themselves in their sedate way. Smoking, cSW-ds, and 
a moderate share of refreshment and drink, gave them all 
they seemed to desire. We heard no music. The clear 
and almost unruffled water of the canal seemed fearful to 
disturb the general calm. Beautiful and lofty trees or» 
namented many places, yet few birds were heard or seen. 
It almost appeared a tranquillity bordering upon stagna- 
tion ; and yet it was a rich and very charming scene. I 
would willingly have considered these retreats as the re- 
wards of long and patient industry, the prize of toil for 
independence, or the aslyum of naval heroes enjoying re- 
pose after a life of warfare and peril; but the changed con- 
dition of Holland unpleasingly obtruded itself upon my 
mind ; and imagination, yielding to reality, was forced to 
view these noble villas, as the habitations of a subjugated 
race of men—- rich, perhaps, but no longer free^ndepea° 
dant as merchants, but as citizens, slaves ! 

Utrecht is a very handsome, large town, and the en-' 
trance by the canal very noble. We found it extremely 
hot in the boat, which is the only objection to this easy 
and agreeable mode of travelling at this time of year» 
Tom Jones was not forgotten ; and, indeed, a book is pe- 
culiarly requisite in such a voyage, and in such scenery ; 
there is so much monotony in both, that in a warm day^ 
the drov/sy god would assert his rights in a very irresisti- 
ble manner, were it not for a lively and entertaining work. 
To Tom Jones we were accordingly very grateful ; and I 
was quite willing to have the bloody noses, and vulgar 
broils introduced, as a relief to the surrounding torpor>> 
The heat became so great, however, that we were very 
glad to arrive at the inn in Utretcht. The approach to 
this town is very noble ; the surrounding villas, the great 
beauty of the canal, whose waters are as clear as the purest 
river, and the air of riches and population, make it worthy 
of every praise. I recollect at Utrecht that, as Mr. Fox 
was not quite satisfied about the direction of one of the 
principal streets', he and I examined the way, although it 



83 

tvas iate, and he was oppressed by the heat of the weatiier, 
and, after much fatigue in walking, we ascertained the ter» 
mination of the street which had started the doubt. 

What is trivial v/ould in most cases be better omitted | 
but at that time I was struck with the desire evinced by 
Mr. Fox, on that occasion, of acquiring accurate know- 
ledge, strongly proved at the expence of a long walk, and 
in weather which was inconveniently oppressive. At all 
times I observed in hira the same anxiety to ascertain, and, 
though in general his observations and knowledge made 
him much at his ease upon all subjects, yet if he doubted^ 
he never relaxed in his enquiries, till he had satisfied him- 
self. He manifested more pleasure in our journey through 
the Netherlands than in Holland. In the former the agri- 
culture, the country, and the people, pleased him highly : 
in the latter, his curiosity was more gratified than his taste. 

We left Utrecht next niprning, after §eeing some su- 
perb gardens ornamented with a profusion of grottos, 
busts, statues, and shell work, and pursued our way by 
water to Amsterdam. As we went by water, and the day 
was extremely hot, we found much inconvenience from the 
weather. Our book was resumed, and the natural descrip- 
tions of Fielding again enlivened our moments. But 
the whole way from Utrecht to Amsterdam, country-hou- 
ses, and gardens, displayed their beauties on each side. 
The neighbourhood of a great capital was manifested by 
the number of villas becoming greater, and by an air of 
animation and bustle appearing everywhere. The canal, 
too, began to widen very much : different small canals 
poured in on every side; the water grew quite alive with 
boats, and the spires, and lofty buildings of Amsterdam, 
terminating the view along the canal, formed a grand ap- 
pearance. I never beheld a more pleasing scene : every 
boat was managed with dexterity ; the various produce of 
the farm was on its way to market ; many females were 



84 

in the boats, giving that charm to the sceae, which always 
heightens, and without which every landscape is dull. 

Every symptom appeared of a great and industrious 
population ; and from what we saw as we approached this 
great hive of human industry, we were prepared to expect 
an extraordinary spectacle upon our arrival : nor were we 
disappointed. Amsterdam is a noble and populous city, 
and pre-eminent, I believe, above all others, for the gene- 
ral diffusion of employment, and the total absence of mise- 
ry or want. Here is the triumph of man, I could scarcely 
avoid exclaiming !-— and of independent man 1^ — Of men 
once styled, by a proud and unfeeling court, beggars ! Li- 
berty, pursued to these marshes, raised her standard 
amidst the waters, and, defying the tyrant who threatened 
from the shores of Spain, gave safety to a wretched peo- 
ple, and the noble city of Amsterdam for their capital. 

I could not have imagined a more perfect scene of hu= 
man occupation and comfort ; the equality of station, and 
tht competency enjoyed by all, afforded that true idea of 
social perfection which theorists have written and talked 
so much of; but which few countries have realized in 
mov'iern times. The distinctions of an aristocratic no- 
blesse, and a miserable populace, did not offend the eye* 
Ihc youth who studies, and the man who thinks, possess 
defective notions regarding states, and forms of govern- 
ment, until they travel. The republics of Greece and 
Rome are well known in history, but their glories and their 
defects are no more to be discerned by the eye of the 
vigilant observer. The ruins of architecture speak their 
past magnificence, and books tell us of their excellencies ; 
but the living volume is no longer open to our perusal! 
Their grandeur is the dream of past days, and liberty has 
lied from those her once favourite haunts. Holland still 
exhibits the features, and happy effects of rational repub- 
iicaIi"l^i^.. It will take a longtime to obliterate them. The 
form and movement imparted to society, so congenial to 



the dispositions of the inhabitants, will long endare. A 
wise g'-vernment, which does not shock their prejudices, 
or ch ige their habits and municipal regulations, may ex- 
tract r .m them essential services, 

"Wiien we visited Holland in 1802, French dominion 
was very visible, owing to the introduction of a French 
military force everywhere ; but though the Dutch grum- 
bled and repined, their industry was not impeded, and no 
partial encouragement, or depression of sex or classes, 
created any of that most intolerable of servitudes, the sub- 
mission of a large portion of society to a few who admi 
nistered foreign power to their own countrymen ! It would 
be quite superfluous in me to mention the magnificent pile 
of the stadt-house, and several fine collections of pictures 
which we saw at Amsterdam. The bank is well known, 
as having long enjoyed the most unbounded and well-me- 
rited confidence. Where the treasures once deposited 
there have fled, is not exactly to be ascertained ; but, like 
those of other banks, I believe they no longer exist. For 
a long time that admirable institution increased the pov/ers 
of the Dutch republic, and added to the respect paid to it 
by other nations. Other times, and other modes of 
finance and government, have succeeded ; but the good 
old times of confidence, founded upon the accumulation of 
solid treasures, and a frugal and cautious expenditure of 
public money, have departed from this commercial re- 
public. 

As the heat was excessive, and the number of canals in 
Amsterdam are disagreeable in the middle of summer, we 
stopt but one night in that city. Its population is estima- 
ted at 250,000, A pleasant drive along the road to Haar- 
lem, was very acceptable after the heat we had endured. 
We had intended passing into North Holland, where we 
were informed the primitive dress and manners of the old 
inhabitants were still preserved; but as Mr. Fox desired 



86 



to, reach Paris without more delay we did not make the 
excursion. 

I had now travelled through the Netherlands to Am- 
sterdam, with Mr. Fox, and, during the whole period, had 
never perceived a shadow of irritation or gloom upon his 
temper. Our journey had been every way delightful. 
The variety of scenery, through which we had passed, the 
mixture of reading and conversation, and the gratification 
of travelling with such a character as Mr. Fox, produced 
a state of mind not easily conceivable in a young man who, 
for the first time, had been abroad. Best and most bene- 
volent of men ! — do I trace these pages, and do thy cold 
remains sleep in the dust ?— I may travel, but never can 
the charm of thy conversation, the playfulness and origi» 
nality of thy remarks, thy happy temper, and benign dispo- 
sition, make me forget objects around, for the most fasci- 
nating purposes of contemplating the various excellencies 
of such a character as thine ! The world, however gay, fresh 
novelties, however striking, could never please as they once 
did ! Where could I find thy friendly remarks, where that 
tender and noble heart, which made every step agreeable, 
and almost compelled me to forget the grand elevation of 
thy character ; the great inferiority of my own ? 

The Netherlands present all the glories of agriculture 
to the pleased traveller, if he be a man of sensibility, the 
most gratifying of all prospects, — an industrious, agricul- 
tural, and contented people, all enjoying comfort and 
peacefully following their labours. — Holland will offer to 
the astonished eye an industrious and immense population, 
animating a flat and productive country, and, by their won- 
derful industry and perseverance, conquering the land 
from the all powerful sea, preserving their acquisition, 
and, in spite of ambitious neighbours and oppressive taxa- 
tion, still undestroyed, — and, though loaded and depressed , 
still respectable, populous, and active. 



87 

But those eyes which, when I travelled through these 
countries, were opened with such vivid pleasure to con- 
template human prosperity and happiness, no longer beam 
with life !— -These countries can never delight me as they 
once did. Were I to journey through them again, friend- 
ship would assert all its rights ; I should seek everywhere 
for him I had lost — I should call upon his name — and car- 
rying with me a mournful and wounded spirit, I should 
find no consolation in the grandeur of cities — no relief 
from the beauties of na^ture, or the wonderful v/orks of in- 
dustrious man ! 

Our journey to Haarlem was extremely pleasant along 
a road which ran by the banks of the canal. Dutch tra- 
velling is very agreeable for summer, and the horses went 
at a good pace. Midway, between Amsterdam and Haar- 
lem ; we passed a very njarrow neck of land, having the 
Haarlem Meer on the left, and the Z'yow on the right, 
and drove along the banks of another canal, till we arrived 
at Haarlem. This is a large and handsome town, and, as. 
all the Dutch towns are, is neat, comfortable, well built, 
and well paved. They are all clean, and there is nothing 
©f an unpleasant nature in any to be seen. The church is 
very large, and the famous org^^n is worthy of every tra- 
veller's attention. The number of stops is great, and 
their power, diversity, and tone, quite astonishing. 

At Haarlem was born and lived Laurentius Costar, 
the supposed inventor of printing. We were informed 
that specimens of his interesting ajid noble discovery, were 
presjerved in the town-house ; but upon inquiry we found 
that the person in whose charge they were was absent* 
Mr. Fox manifested a very great anxiety to see these 
specimens of an infant art, which had conferred such sig- 
nal benefit on mankind ! We waited a considerable time, 
walked about, sent repeatedly, and were as often disap- 
pointed. Mr. Fox very unwillingly (and I had not seen 
lum more interested upon the whole journey) stepped inte 



the boat which waited to convey us to Leyden. I went 
myself with reluctance. I conceived that homage was 
due from us to this divine invention, and that tne sub- 
jects of a free constitution were required, above aD others, 
to reverence and respect those elementary materi. is of the 
great art, the parent of liberty in modern times, and difFu- 
ser of all those works of genius and amusemeDr which 
civilize society, and add so much to domestic pleasures. 
I regretted as the boat moved on, that we had not remain- 
ed longer. I now regret it more, as I shall never look 
upon these precious relics in the presence of him whose 
manly efforts, in favour of liberty, were seconded and dif- 
fused so powerfully by that art in its perfection, which 
Costar had either invented, or had in in its infancy improv- 
ed and advanced ! 

Having set out thus disappointed, we glided on, through 
a ^at and poor-looking country, on our way to Leyden. 
I perceived, as we passed on, that the cows were all black, 
or black and white, in Holland, without exception ; the 
horses good and handsome; but the pigs of a most miser- 
able appearance. Of sheep we saw few, aicd those we did 
were indifferent. The use of wooden shoes is very pre- 
valent. There is certainly nothing of elegance in the ge- 
neral appearance of the Dutch ; but among the women 
there is much neatness. The young girls are very fair, 
and of a very engaging appearance; they are even hand- 
some when quite young, but soon lose the light and charm- 
ing air of youth, and their beauty degenerates into insipid 
fairness. Nevertheless, in a moral and physical view, 
there is an air of tranquillity and complacency, through 
the whole landscape, of a very pleasing nature. The 
great family of the nation, appears vmitedand affectionate. 
Parents are kind and gentle to their children, and no where 
did I observe severity used to them. The men or boys 
nurse the children, too, almost as much as the women. 
The excesses of passion, the loud broil, or the horrors of 
intoxication, do not disgrace the picture. The Dutch fa» 



89 

mily quietly enjoy that regular and calm happiness, wHich 
their ancestors have bequeathed to them. Order, that 
first blessing of society, reigns throughout. If they do 
not possess all the more elegant or exquisite pleasures of 
refined life, they have none of its pains or anguish. Hol- 
land is not the country for a poet, or for a person fond of 
sublime or picturesque scenery : a mind of sensibility 
would here languish for want of excitement, and for ob- 
objects of admiration ; but rational, moderate-minded men, 
may pass a very easy and satisfactory life. The duration 
of ease and exemption from any thing unpleasant, would, 
perhaps, compensate for the absence of greater joys. At 
all events, Holland is a happy asylum for age. It suits 
that period of life in an eminent degree ; and did the cli- 
mate favour its feebleness or ailments, equally as its pla- 
cid manners, and limited pursuits, Holland would be a 
most desirable spot in which to rock " the cradle of de- 
clining age." 

In another point of view, it is a highly instructive 
scene — a lesson for nations who are oppressed, and a guide 
to] statesmen. It demonstrates, that the people, not the 
soil, constitute the wealth of nations. It has been proved 
in Holland, and the evidence is yet before us, that a num- 
ber of brave men, determined to be free, can create a 
country for themselves. The sweets of independence im- 
part' vigour to the mind. Home, unmolested by tyrants, 
was a spot which, even in the marshes of Holland, be- 
came endeared to its possessor. Free men daily improv- 
ed it — fenced, cultivated, and adorned it, until this little 
paradise bloomed on their labours, and gave them pleasure 
and happiness, as it before had yielded them safety. A 
colony of men, of vigorous and independent minds, can, 
therefore, at any time, and in any place, constitute a free 
and happy state ; if they be unanimously determined to 
obtain independence or to die. The Belgians colonized 
the marshes of Holland ; they fought with invincible cou- 
rage J and they laboured with equal industry. A haughty 

M 



90 



court could not justly calculate to what degree such men 
could carry resistance. It estimated them as common 
men, without grand and sublime incentives, and it was baf- 
fled and deceived. The vicinity of powerful neighbours^, 
the disadvantages of nature, and the smallness of their 
numbers, did not daunt them. What stronger example 
can be afforded of the truth of the position just laid down ? 
and who is there that would not prefer dying in the 
marshes of such a country, rather than languish under 
despotism, and feebly prolong the existence of a slave ? 

The country approaching to Leyden, is flat and poor- 
looking land : as we advanced, nothing interesting appear- 
ed, and Tom Jones became again our source of amuse- 
ment. The animation of this capital work never flags : 
we were always more and more amused by it. Every 
one had read it before, but every one enjoyed it more 
than formerly. I do not know but the reading such a 
work, in the midst of sedaieness and still life, gave it a 
greater zest. We closed it reluctantly on entering Ley- 
den. This is a large and handsome town, though appa- 
rently decaying : it is intersected with canals, and the 
Rhine runs through it. The front of the town-house is of 
a noble appearance. The library is large and good, and 
contains, among others, a good portrait of Erasmus. 

As we turned our steps towards the Hague, our tour 
through Holland drew towards a termination. The ap- 
proach to that justly celebrated town is distinguished by 
numerous and handsome villas, ornamenting the banks of 
the canal. As we entered the Hague, the moon lighted 
us on our way, and the quiet waters of the canal murmur- 
ed as we glided gently along. We had now arrived at 
the once celebrated seat of government in Holland. Of- 
ten had k been the focus of negotiations, where the great- 
est characters had been assembled, and the voice of the 
united states then ranked with that of kingdoms and em- 
pires. The illustrious house of Orange, (illustrious as 



91 



long as they felt and fought for their country like patriots 
and brave men) long had held here its merited pre-emi- 
nence. 

The Hague was aUo rendered interesting by the long 
residence of sir William Temple. That able statesman has, 
perhaps, been exceeded by few in the walks of public or 
private life. Unable to stem the tide of baseness in the 
profligate reign of Charles the II. he retired very early 
from public life, carrying with him the esteem of a sove- 
reign, who venerated the man whose counsels he had not 
virtue enough to follow, the approbation of the English 
nation, the respect of foreign nations, and the regard of 
the Hollanders. Early withdrawing from public life, he 
devoted his time to literature, his gardens, and his family ; 
and left behind him an example for statesmen, rarely fol- 
lowed, but ever to be admired. The morning succeeding 
our arrival at the Hague gave us an agreeable surprise. 
That village, as it is called, but much rather that beauti- 
ful town, strikes the traveller's eye in Holland, in a most 
agreeable manner. It is elegant and airy, although in a 
flat country ; the trees, the houses, and canals, have all a 
light effect, and one sees evident marks of this place having 
been the residence of people of rank, taste, and elegance. 
A noble wood, of fine beech and oak trees, skirts the 
town. It is here of peculiar beauty, nature being little con- 
trolled, or moulded in any part of it, and the trees being 
of good size, very much heightens and enhances its beau- 
ties. Wood is the only thing in Holland which interposes 
itself to relieve the universal monotony of level ground, 
canals, and towns. The drive through it to the Maison 
de Bois is very charming. That palace, which belonged 
to the house of Orange, is not remarkable for beautv or 
situation. It was in very good order and contained some 
good pictures. The plainness and moderation of this pa- 
lace, formerly inhabited by the head of the government, 
suited the character of the nation* The brother of the 
French emperor had not then possessed it. It was siieiit 



9a 



and dull. We left it to drive through the wood, which, 
with its natural charms, repaid us for the ennui of traver- 
sing through empty state apartments. 

Mr. Fox was very much pleased with the Hague, and 
with this wood, which received admiration from us all. 
We looked at Monsieur Fagel's place, near it, which is 
pretty, though a little out of order, and we drove to Sche- 
veling, on the sea shore. Great numbers of large boats 
were arriving, and the picture was a lively and original 
one. The Dutch seamen, with their huge boots, seemed 
formed to live in, as well as upon, the sea ; and when they 
got into the water, to get out their fish, and pull in their 
boats, they appeared in their proper element. It is a long, 
sandy beach, at Scheveling. Here the stadtholder embark- 
ed, when he fied. I believe Holland suffered nothing from 
his abdication ; but when I stood on the shore, I could not 
refrain from despising the man who flies when his country 
is in danger, unless it be that he has governed it ill, and 
fears the just resentment of his countrymen; in which case 
I should have been glad to have assisted him into his boat. 
I have no compassion for suffering royalty, where its own 
crimes and misdemeanours bring exile or flight upon its 
head. Least of all should I have it for the person who go- 
verned the Dutch ill : a people so orderly, so moral, and 
regular ; whose domestic life is an example for govern- 
ment, and, if followed, must ensure success, very little 
deserved to be mal-treated by any sort of mal-administra- 
tion, v/hether touching affairs at home or abroad, f'can- 
not conceive that a good man could have occasion to liy 
from such a nation; if a bad one felt that it was ex- 
pedient and necessary to depart, there seemed aji ac- 
quittance between both parties, and tlie head of govern- 
ment, to obtain a reasonable measure of lenity. We saw 
one picture, however, at the Hague, which, as it must fill 
any person with horror who views it, must derogate a 
good deal from my praises of Dutch moderation and calm- 
ness—I allude to the masgacre of the De WktSo 



9.a 

The death of these excellent men, and true patriots, is 
but too faithfully depicted in a small picture at the Mai- 
son de Bois. It excited great disgust in Mr. Fox, and 
with great reason; nor can I now allow myself to particu- 
larize a subject which yet gives me pain. Without justi- 
fying the mistaken fury of the populace on this melancholy 
occasion, one can only say, that if such tremendous excess 
can be at all paliated, it is where a brave and free people 
have reason to apprehend an insidious attack upon their 
liberties. Amongst a thousand instances, this is one which 
deserves notice, of Mr. Fox's admirable force of mind, 
equally reprobating the direful rage of the populace, as the 
vindictive cruelty of a tyrant. It was quite distressing to 
him to speak upon the catastrophe of the De Witts, 
His countenance v/as full of horror at sight of the memora- 
ble picture, and the soul of the sorrowing patriot spoke 
melancholy things, in his countenance, at the moment. 
There was, in truth, nothing more remarkable in this great 
man, than an extreme tenderness of nature, which powerful- 
ly impelled him to abhor, and to avoid, every thing cruel 
and sanguinary; whilst there was also a decision and gran- 
deur of mind in him, prompting the boldest resolves, and 
most instantaneous modes of action. Mr. Fox's disposition 
taught him to govern at home with parental mildness, and 
always to conciliate and encourage, rather than terrify ; 
his genius led him to chuse the grandest measures, in fo- 
reign politics, and to make war short, by making it decided. 
How can one forbear adverting to the senseless clamour, 
and malignant calumnies, which for a long time, at home, 
depicted such a character as an incendiary, and lover of 
tumult and insurrection ? How active was the system, early 
established in this reign, to represent Mr. Fox as a needy 
revolutionist, who would smile at the overthrow of the 
throne, and look with indifference upon torrents of blood. 
How lamentable that the upholders of that system achieved 
their purpose, and accomplished their mercenary end at 
the expense of a great and deluded nation ! How much 
more likely that they would have equalled the fury of the 



94 



Hollanders against the De Witts, if their spoils had heen 
invaded, than that the mild spirit of Fox voiild have sanc- 
tioned insubordination, or looked with unconcern upon 
blood and massacre. We spent a most happy day at the 
Hague. The weather was fine, and not too hot ; the wood, 
was quite captivating to us, and the drive to Scheveling, 
between rows of fine trees, very agreeable. Certainly, 
there was nothing lively at the Hague ; and, as the seat of 
government, it was changed : indeed all was devoid of in- 
terest in that point ; and I apprehend future travellers 
must, as I did, recur to history, and appeal to their own 
imaginations, when passing through Holland hereafter, to 
give it interest to their minds ; for it appears to have sunk 
under a domination too powerful, and too contiguous, to 
escape from. The want of political objects, I was able 
to very agreeably supply, by continuing my reading of the 
^neid. In this Mr. Fox joined with undiminished plea- 
sure, and here we read the 10th book : he marked, and re- 
peated with much feeling, more than once, the passage, 

" —Pallas, Evander in ipsis 



Omnia sunt oculis," &c. &c. 

I rather think that the characters of Evander and Pallas 
were his favourite ones, (although I must include that of 
Dido.) Whoever reads with attention the 8th book of the 
jEneid, I mean the attention of a man of feeling, not the 
cold examination of a poring scholar, will allow that his 
partiality was very justly bestowed. Nothing can be 
more happily conceived, or more beautifully described, 
than the entrance of Eneas into the Tyber. The simpli- 
city and dignity of Evander's character, with great reason, 
srttracted Mr. Fox's attention; his manner of reply, 

** Turn sic pauea refert ; Ut te, fortissime Teucrum, 
Accipio adgnoscoque libens !" &c, &;e. 

His hospitality so generous and easy, his peculiar frank- 
ness and exemption from all disguise, naturally pleased 
him. 



95 

There is nothing more elegant than the complimentary 
invitation of Evander to Eneas, where he alludes to He^r- 
cules I nothing more worthy a great mind. 

** Aude, hospes, contemnere opes: et te quoque dignum 
Finge deo, rebusque veni non asper egenis.*' 

The description of Evander arising in the morning is 
beautiful; and throughout, his exalted and unaffected 
character is the same — how natural the description, 

" Evandrum ex hiimili teeto lux snscitat almaj. 
Et matutini volucrum sub cubnina cautus. 
Consurgit senioi'," &c. &c. 

But it is as a father that he is above all things admira* 
ble ; after informing Eneas of the allies he may obt^aiij^^ 
his continuation, 

**Hunc tibi prieterea spes et solatia nostri 
Pallanta adjungam, sub te tolerare magistro 
Militiam et grave Martis opus, tua cernere facta 
Adsuescat, primis et te miretur ab annis," 

is so full of the father, and the old warrior, that nothing 
can be better : his parting prayer I have quoted ; and his 
heart must be formed of iron materials, who does not 
imagine to himself the old man carried fainting into his 
mansion, destined never more to behold this beloved and 
only son — who does not give a sigh for the sufferings of 
this venerable man. 

Pallas himself is very interesting. In the 10th book, 
Virgil, with one of those small, but fine touches of RaturCj 
represents him close to Eneas, on board ship. 

" Hie magnus sedet -^aeas, secumque volutat 
Eventus belli varies ; Pallasque sinistro 
Affixus laieri jam qusrit sidera, opacK 
Koctis iter ; jara ^*?e passws te.craque mayiquejy 



94 

His ahame and anger, when his Arcadians retreat^ 
and his burning valour, place him in a very natural and en- 
gaging point of view. 

" Quo fugitis, Socii t per vos et fortia facta. 
Per ducis F^vandi^i nomen, devictaque bella, 
Spiemque meam, patrise quse nunc subit Ecmula laudi 
Fidite ne pedibus, ferro rumpenda per hostes 
Est via, qua globus ille virum densissimus urget." 

The lamentation of the Arcadians bearing Pallas on a 
shield, is melancholy to an extraordinary degree. 

*' O dolor, atque decus raagnum rediture parent!! 
Hsec te prima dies bello dedit, lisec eadem aufert ; 
Cttm tamen ingentes Rutulorum linquis acervos." 

It is then that the poet bursts foYth in the passage Mr» 
Fox so much admired, 



-Pallas, Evander, in ipsi 



Omnia sunt oculis : mensse, quas advena primas 
Tunc adiit, dextrteque datse." 

Nor, I believe, is there any more happy instances than 
this of the exercise of the divine art, which, presenting 
us with a succession of living pictures, suddenly recals 
the past, and raises up before us the images we have al- 
most forgotten, with more than pristine freshness. All 
the hospitality, the candour, and the affection of Evander, 
are brought forward — his plighted faith, his unbounded 
confidence in Eneas*— and then Pallas lifeless — -his only 
comfort in age. 

Were there no other, this passage might, will immortal- 
ize Virgil as a poet of genuine feeling and taste. 

The conclusion of the 10th book, the death of Lausus^ 
and the resistance and fall of Mezentius, Mr. Fox did 
not fail very much to admire. If I may venture to ex- 



97 



press any very decided opinion, I incline to think that the 
concluding part of the 10th book, is nothing inferior to any 
part of the iEneid. The author has introduced, without 
the least repetition, the characters of another father, and 
another son, after the death of Pallas ; the last hope of 
Evander. The battle episode of Me2:entius and Lausus, 
is of the highest interest. I do not know if a modern 
poet of much celebrity studied the part of Mezentius at 
the river, but I think it incomparably superior to the mo^ 
dern hero's description. I cannot deny myself the satis- 
faction of transcribing it ; and if I appear tedious or im- 
pertinent, let it be recollected xuith -whom I read it ; and 
let me be forgiven this humble and grateful remembrance 
of happy hours no more, and this little tribute, not to 
the statesman but to the scholar and poet. 



'* Interea genitor Tyberini ad fluminis undara 
Vulnero siccabat lymphis, corpusque levabat 
Arboris adclinis trunco. Procul serea ramis 
' Dependet galea, et prato gravia arma quiescunt 

Stant lecti circum juvenes : ipse seger, anhelans 
Colla fovet, fusus propexam in peetore barbam : 
M ulta super Lauso rogitat, multumque remittit. 
Qui revocent, mustiquse fei-ant raaiidata parentis. | 
Atlausum socii exanimem super arma ferebant 
Flentes, ingentem, atque ingenti vulnere victura. 
Adgnovit longe gemitura prsesaga raali mens. 
Canitiem multo deformat pulvere, et ambas 
Ad cselum tendit palmas, et corpore inhteret.'* 

In making the death of a tyrant so very unhappy, Vir° 
gil has shewn himself an enemy to oppression, and worthy 
the name of Roman. His regret for injuring his son, 
heightens his consciousness of having deserved the hatred 
of his subjects. 

*' Idem ego, nate, tuum maculavi crimine uoraeuj 
Pulsus ob invidiam solio sceptiisque paternis. 
Debureram patriae pcenas. odiisque meorum : 
Omnis per mortes animam sonlem ipse dcdissem '-' 



N 



Afraid, too, of wanting burial, he asks it from his. 
conqueror. 

*' Corpus humo i^atiare tegi : scio acerba meorum 
Circumst^re odia : hunc, (oro) defende farorem." 

How deplorable this end', and yet how justly merited. 
-*-The stories of Evander and Pallas, of Mezentius and 
JLausus, are almost equally affecting at their termination, 
though different in their nature. Mr. Fox remarked to 
me on our journey through Flanders, that there was a 
tincture of melancholy in the mind of Virgil, which shews 
itself in all his works. We prepared to leave the Hague 
with reluctance. It had pleased us all. I never remem- 
ber Mr. Fox more happy, more serene, than at the Hague, 
Whether the beauty of the place, association of ideas, the 
pleasantness of the weather, or the addition of Virgil, con- 
tributed most, it is hard to say, but each contributed ; and 
this great man did not feel among the least of his gratifi- 
cations, that we were all happy and entertained also. We 
set out for Delft by the canal. The same country, and 
the same objects, as Holland in general presents, were 
pgain before us. Delft a good and large town, intervened, 
and we continued our way. The 11th book of the iEneid 
beguiled the time, till, entering Rotterdam, we were struck 
with admiration at its beauty, This is the handsomest 
town, perhaps, in Holland : it is insersected by grand and 
long canals ; large ships and stately trees are dispersed in 
every part, and Rotterdam looks quite the capital of wealthy 
5ind select merchants. There is not the universal occu- 
pation of Amsterdam, its great population, or extent ; but 
there is enough of business to animate, and there is an air 
of commercial grandeur every where. The statue of 
Erasmus, that great scholar and good man, in bronze, is 
very good. The Bombkis, a quay extending above half a 
mile along the Maese, adorned by noble houses, and fine 
trees, however, is the grand ornament of Rotterdam. On 
our entrance, we saw admiral Story's house on one of th^ 



99 

quays : the boatman spoke of him with marked reprobatidh, 
but said De Winter " was a brave man and good patriot." 

As we crossed the Maese, the view of Rotterdam, its 
shipping, trees, &c. gradually became more beautiful. It 
was a fine termination of our short and rapid tour through 
Holland ; and, entering Brabant, we reached Bergen-op- 
Zoom in the evening. Bergen-op-Zoomis well known as 
one of the strongest fortified places in Europe. I walked 
early in the morning upon the ramparts, from whence the 
view is very extensive. It stretches far around, and I 
took my last farewell of Holland from thence. The lines 
of fortification, scarps and counterscarps, bastions, and 
half-moons, of Bergen-op-Zoom, afforded a barren plea- 
sure, compared to the contemplation of such a country. 
I considered it with respect. It is the work of their hands ; 
they sought security and peace, and they obtained them» 
A long and tranquil period has repaid all their toils. 

Towns have grown up. Their land has been made to 
produce. Commerce has enriched them. They have 
been a long time happy, and yet enjoy much of the fruits 
pf the labours of their ancestors. Here is a work in 
which vast expense, time, and labour, has been expended | 
if it no longer can contribute to guard an industrious 
and virtuous people, how dull, and unmeaning an object 
it is. 

Holland must long continue a striking monument of 
the patience and fortitude of man* Military works are 
at best but of a partial and temporary nature. Citadels 
and fortresses moulder, are destroyed, or become useless* 

Laws, customs, and manners, endure for ages, when 
once established, and defy the hand of power. Religion, 
sanctions all, and binds the work. These alone are last- 
ing works. These have modelled Holland, and may one 
day lead her once more to assert her independence, and 
again to stand as a nation. 



Leaving Bergen-op-Zoom, we reached Antwerp on our 
return, and rested one night there. Our tour to Holland 
was now finished, and we had surveyed two neighbouring, 
yet very distinct countries, Flanders and Holland. The 
people of each having one common origin, had become, 
through circumstances and situation, very different. The 
Dutch, having imbibed the doctrines of the new or reform- 
ed religion, inclined, as those professing such change usu- 
alfy did, to a new form of government. They established 
a republic in their marshes, and disclaimed all allegiance 
to the superior state. Commerce was necessary for them j 
their situation compelled them to it, and their interest 
drew them to addict themselves to it. They grew wealthy 
as well as independent, and their character became selfish 
and surly. Commercial pride is, perhaps, the most odious 
and tyrannical of any other. Commercial avidity be- 
comes so blinded, that it endangers a state in which it un- 
happily gains too great preponderance. Holland acquired 
too much wealth, and from that moment lost its strength, 
A base devotion to gain, stifles every germ of bravery,, 
genius, and independence. 

The young are corrupted by it before they can reason , 
and Gvery succeeding generation grows more degenerate* 
Hence, the people are bartered to the government for ad- 
vantageous jobs and contracts, the government grows ex- 
travagant, and exhausts the wealth of the nation which it 
gets hold of, in vain and presumptuous plans, and forms 
expensive and dangerous connexions, solid wealth disap- 
pears, and commerce itself, having by its excess r uined 
the state, languishes, and falls into distress. In is remark- 
able that the people of Flanders followed a very different- 
course in every thing, and favoured in a high and eminent 
degree by the soil, applied themselves to agriculture, as 
the staple business, and grand occupation of their lives. 

All the habits of agriculture are so much better than 
those of commerce, that the nation solely, or principally^ 



101 

addicted to it, will be more solidly prosperous and happy 
than any other. Agriculture does not encourage the spirit 
of dominion common to rich commercial states ; and is» 
consequently, less involved in war and expense than they 
are. Agriculture, too, promotes and cherishes a sense of 
independence in the members of an agricultural nation. 
The farmer who has moderate wants, and sees constantly 
around him his little territory, and a number of contented 
and happy beings, does not feel disposed to truckle to others, 
or give up his liberty for the gratifications of pride, vanity, 
and selfishness. In religion, a people having agricultural, 
rather than commercial habits of life, are more stedfast, 
and less prone to change : they are used to that of their 
forefathers, respect it, and attend to its worship, as a ne- 
cessary part of rural happiness, as well as devotion to the 
Deity. Flanders certainly proves, that a long and undis- 
turbed duration of internal comfort and rational indepen- 
dence, is better secured by the people who make agricultu- 
ral pursuits their great object, than by any other. In de- 
fence, too, of their country, such a people are sure to be 
courageous and firm ; and if they have not the same spirit 
of enterprize which a commercial one has, they compensate 
for it by more estimable qualities. 

I heard, on our return through Antwerp, that the com- 
mander there wished to employ the old burgomasters in 
municipal offices, but they would not accept such places ; 
so that the love of independence still survived the glory 
and grandeur of the city. This was a faint, but not unin- 
teresting, race of what Belgium once was, and deserving of 
respect, when we consider that the whole country was oc- 
cupied by the French. 

We now pursued our way, taking the road to Brussels- 
through Malines. The latter is a large old town ; and 
here a great number of ecclesiastics were seen, more than 
I had perceived by far since our arrival on the Continent. 



102 

i will close my remarks on Flanders in general, by 
stating that the churches were every where numerously 
attended ; that the people, though not pleased with the 
French government, were not strongly averse to it, and 
rather looked upon its rule as innovation than oppression. 
It was not that they preferred the Austrian, but, rather, 
that they were put out of their way, and habits of thinkings 
by it. As we stopped at some little village, I sat down 
upon a bench beside an old farmer, and asked him, how he 
liked Bounaparte. His answer was, " il n^est pas nohle^^ 
and a look of some dissatisfaction. In short, if France 
respects the privileges and prejudicies of the Flemings, and 
does not load them with excessive taxation, she may long 
hold them under her dominion, and derive vast strength 
from their support. Holland, too, though likely to suffer 
more from the cramping of her commerce in war, may 
preserve much of her independence, though her merchants 
may clamour loudly, and represent her as ruined. 

On leaving Mechlin, or Malines, our way led through 
a rich and beautiful country ; and when we approached 
Brussels, every thing appeared rich and magnificent. A 
great part of our journey was made along a canal, having 
good trees and fine chateaus on each side. 

Brussels had been the seat of the Austrian government* 
There had Austrian pride, and vice-regal grandeur, long 
resided. The worthy Flemings had borne the " insolence 
of office," and had long endured the haughtiness of this go* 
vernment, — ^satisfied with solid independence and an undis- 
turbed life. The recollection of Alva could not be grate- 
ful, but that was a passing horror which had not entailed 
future and distant miseries, but had rather served the peo = 
pie's cause by its enormity and savageness ; inciting re- 
sistance, justifying it, and weakening the name and authority 
of the crown from its ill-judged violence. Dalton, too, 
was not be forgotten j but he also, the unfeeling instrument 



103 



of a peevish despot, had not long enjoyed power, and his 
cruelty had alienated the Flemings without depressing or 
degrading them. 

The pompous parade of German stateliness had vanish- 
ed from Brussels ; but were we to find it, therefore, a desert? 
I hoped not ; we found nothing melancholy ; on the con- 
trary, Brussels looked gay and pleasant. It is situated on 
the side of a hill, and the upper part, or town, is remarkably 
handsome : we had seen nothing having so elegant an air. 
The palace and the park, are remarkably superb and noble ; 
the view from the ramparts overlooks a very fine country. 
The hotel at Brussels was airy, and fitted up in a beauti- 
ful manner : as it was a day of fete and rejoicing, the peo- 
ple were dressed, and the streets full of gaiety. And for 
what was the fete; and for what this rejoicing? says my 
reader. It was to signalize the event of Bonaparte 's 
having been declared consul for life : we now began to 
think of France, 

Here I closed the ^neid, fininshing the 12th book after 
our arrival in Brussels. I cannot bid it farewell, without 
dwelling with a fond (I trust, pardonable,) and lingering 
recollection upon its perusal : these were moments, hal- 
lowed by friendship, and blest by the blended effusions of 
genius. I could converse upon the merits of the Trojan 
hero, and have my doubts satisfied, or my remarks sanc- 
tioned by one of the first scholars of his country. I might 
venture to risk my thoughts. Mr. Fox was so great a 
lover of poetry, that even the discussions I started pleased 
him. My indignation against Eneas for his desertion of 
Dido, and the coldness of his conduct on that and other 
Qccasions, diverted him. He did not by any means, de- 
fend, in these respects, Virgil's hero, but he so pointed 
out the beauties of the author, and with so much justice 
and liberality, allowed him his full merit, even compared 
with Homer, that I felt unbounded gratification in our 



104 

readings. On looking again into the iEnied, I am nothing 
surprised at his admiration of the parts relating to Evan- 
der. I think, too, that Eneas is made, by Virgil, to rise 
much superior to Achilles, in that respect, where they may 
be both compared — their grief and revenge for the loss of 
a slain friend. Eneas recollects the hospitality, the ge* 
nerous frieadship of the Arcadian king. 



-Pallas, Evander, omnia in ipsis. 



Oculis,' 



and is distracted at the death of his son ; his fancy knows 
no bounds ; he spares no person, and seems to think he can 
never sufficiently retaliate upon the enemy. The old king 
is ever before his eyes ; he is maddened at the idea of his 
kind behaviour meeting such a requital; he sees him 
weeping, mournful, and alone. Achilles, as depicted by 
Homer, has a good deal of selfish character ; the death of 
Patroclus was a sensible loss to himself, which, as a friend, 
we do not wonder that he heavily laments ; but, compared 
to the feelings which Eneas almost sinks under, I think 
that of Achilles appears boyish and headstrong rage — the 
desire to revenge his own wrongs, and to punish, in a bar- 
barous manner, the author of them. On the contrary, it 
is Evander which fills the mind of Eneas ; it is the loss 
of his ally snd friend he grieves for ; he upbraids himself 
for having occasioned it : when he sees the pale counte- 
?iance of Pallas, 



*' Non hcec Evandro de te pi'omissa parenli 

Disoedens dederam : cum me coraplexus euiitem 

Mitteret in magnum imperium, metuensque ; moneret 

Acris esse viros, cum dura proelia gente. 

Et nunc, ille quidera spe multum captus in9.ni 

Fors et vota facit, cumulatque altariadonis : 

Nos juvenem exaniniura, et nil jam cselestibus ullls 

Debentera, vano macsti comitamur honore. 

Int'elix, nali funus crudele videbis. 

Hi nostri reditus, exspectatique triumphi : 

H^e raea magna fides/' ^c. 



105 

Achilles says to Thetis, 

*' Axx« ri fiM tan »(f«c, vk%i ^tX9i «m9' s-jtyfee 

In his reply he does not allude to the parents of Fa- 
traclus; saying merely, 



E(p3-/T 



» 



I ^tV |M.OtX« T«Ao6/ ^«TgJ).g 



Which is the usual and constant reflection among the an*- 
cients on the death of a friend and countryman. I must 
allow that the grief manifested by Achilles on hearing of 
the death of Patroclus, was of the deepest or rather most 
violent kind. Homer, that sublime and incomparable re- 
presenter of nature, on that occasion, certainly gives a 
most exquisite and strong picture of grief. 

*' 'TOV o^etT^tc^ vt^eAw 8a«Xt/^|/* ^iXc(iy«& 



N«»TagtM </*e ;^/T4)v; /u«Xat/y' afA(pt(^aiv6 rt^^n 
AvTOy Jiv «.cviiia-i fAtyai fAiyu>i.«esi Tttvy6«/c 
Ke/To (piXjjiTi {Tj x''^"'* *6^»v no'x'^t J^a.^w^* 

Yet it falls short of the effect produced upon ^Eneas., 
which is so dignified as well as pathetic : a thousand grate- 
ful and affectionate ideas spring into his mind. — He flies 
to succour his friends, but feels more for the misery of 
Evander, than for the success of the day. 

How beautiful, too, is all the passage describing the 
setting out of the corpse of Pallas ; and how affecting the 
grief of Eneas on that occasion: when Pallas is raised 
upon the bier, how sweetly described. 



m 

" Hie j^avenem agresti sublimem stramine ponunt : 

Qualem virgineo demessum pollice florem 

Seu molisviolse, seu languentis hyacintlii : 

Cui necque fulgor adhue, nee dum sua forma recessit : 

Non jam mater alit tellus, viresque ministrat." 

Eneas brings out every thing to mark respect and gra= 
titude to the deceased hero and his father ; and the poet 
adds : 

*' Postquam omnis longe comitum processerat ordo 5 
Substitit ^neas, gemituque hsec addidit alto : 
Nos alias hinc ad lacrimas eadem horrida belli 
Fata vocant ; — salve seternum mihi, maxume I'alla, 
iEternumque vale : nee plura effatus ad altos 
Tendebat mures, gressumque in castra ferebat.*' 

There is more dignity in the grief of Eneas throughout, 
than in that of Achilles ; at the same time we must allow 
for the difference of the characters, and of the circum- 
stances attending. 

I observe in the book I have before me, the part marked 
where Evander meets the dead body of his son. We 
finished the 11th book at the Hague, and, on recurring to 
the iEneid, I feel fresh reason for admiring Mr. Fox's 
partiality for every passage relating to the Arcadian king. 
No mind of sensibility can fail of sympathizing with 
Evander, on this last melancholy occasion. When the 
mournful sounds of the Trojan and Arcadian attendants 
reached his ears, Evander cannot be restrained, 

** At non Evandrura potis est vis ulla tenere : 
Sed venit in medios : feretro Pallanta reposto 
Procubuit super, atque hseret lacrymansque gemensque, 
Et via vix tandem voci laxa ta dolore est." 

The following lamentation of Evander is very particu- 
larly marked : the last words, I think, yet reverberate in 
my ears. 

*' Non hsec 6, Palla, dederas promissa parenti, 
Cautius ut ssevo velles te credere Marti. 
Haud ignarus erara, quantum nova gloria in armis. 



Et praedulce decus prirao certamine possets 
Primitife juvenismiseraa, bellique propinqui 
Dura rudimenta, et nulli exaudita deorum 
Vota precesque mese ! tuque, 6 sanctlssima conjunct 
Felix morte tua, neque in hunc servata dolorem ! 
Contra ego vivendo viei mea fata, supersles 
Kestarem ut genitor. Troum socia arnia secutum 
Obruerent Rutuli telis: aniraam ipse dedissem, 
Atque h£ec pompa domum me, non Pallanta, referret. 
Nee vos arguerim Teucri, nee fcedera, nee, quas 
Junximus hospitio dextras : sors ista senectte 
Debita erat nostrse.*' 

And the concluding line and a half is also marlced as the 
" sors ista^^ 



Non vitse gaudia qusero. 



Nee fas : sed nato manis perferre sub imos." 

Were I to indulge in superstitious feelings, 1 might 
conjecture that these melancholy passages pleased Mr* 
Fox more peculiarly from a presentiment that his own 
decease was not far distant : but I should not feel au- 
thorized to advance this supposition, for he never was 
more serene and cheerful. I do not know, however, but 
that I might state, that there was a tincture of melancholy 
on his, as in VirgiPs mind, at least of great tenderness, 
which made him dwell on such passages as I have quoted, 
with equal feeling, and a sort of refined delight. I was 
accustomed, when I read the iEneid on this tour, to com- 
municate my ideas to him as I proceeded ; and he always 
joined, with the liveliest interest, in re-considering and 
remarking upon the thousand beauties of the charming 
author whom we studied in this cursory, but very pleasing 
manner. I have no hesitation in saying that Mr. Fox re- 
ceived more pleasure from this kind of friendly exami- 
nation of an author he loved so much, than he would 
have done from all the homage crowds of flatterers and 
admirers could pay, or from the dazzling attentions of 
royalty, or from the splendour and fascination of a bril- 
liant levee. His own virtues were so eminently domestic, 



loa 



that all those sources of rational pleasure, which the poet 
opens before us, were prized by him far above those com- 
mon and vulgar delights which splendid rank or power, or 
mere wealth bestow. Often had I marked this disposi- 
tion at St. Anne's Hill; and now, when every thing flat- 
tering and agreeable' opened its view, when he was about 
to mix amongst the first and most exalted characters of 
Europe ; drawn to Paris by curiosity, business, or pleasure^ 
when he expected to meet the first warrior, and, undoubt- 
edly, the most extraordinary man of the age; I saw him 
calmly, and, indeed, with unfeigned satisfaction, devoting 
part of his time to Virgil, enlightening me by his remarks, 
and, in his admiration of the Roman poet, forgetting poli- 
tics, the continent we travelled on, and all the warfare and 
ambition of man. His mind soared so highly above selfish 
ideas, that, whilst others, through vanity or through mer- 
cenary motives, anxiously, and with pitiable avidity, 
looked for changes of ministry, and all the sweets of pomp 
and place, this excellent man enjoyed Virgil with all the 
warmth of glov/ing youth ; and, truly rich in the possession 
of a mind whose internal resources were inexhaustible and 
independent, he smiled upon the cares of crowned heads^^ 
and the toils of their ministers and courtiers. 

At Brussels, having finished the iEneid, our readings 
in Latin ceased, and we now began to perceive our approx- 
imation to the capital. Mr. Fox had letters from his 
friends, urging him to hasten his journey; and having 
completed his Flemish and Dutch tour, had nothing 
farther to detain him. As no man felt the calls of friend- 
ship more strongly, he became himself desirous of pro- 
ceeding without delay. Attached warmly to his family, 
he had also another inducement, lord Holland and his fa- 
mily were at Paris, and were anxiously looking for him^ 
as he lived with his nephew as a brother and friend, and 
tlie disparity of years was lost in mutual affection. 

Lord Holland, without that grandeur of character 
which distinguished his uncle— without that bold and eri- 



109 

tiiusiastic devotion to liberty and her sacred rights, whicli 
inspired him — without that disdain of the trammels of 
political party, which made Mr. Fox always independent, 
though sometimes conceding — was still highly worthy of 
his exalted relative's warmest affection and esteem. His 
candour, mildness, and liberality, everywhere insured 
him friends ; and as his tone of mind in many respects 
resembled his uncle's, there existed the utmost cordialit}^, 
and the sincerest friendship between them* 

Added to these inducements, there were others. The 
establishment of Bonaparte in the consulship for life, was 
disclosing a new state of things. The constitution changing 
from a republic to that of a government for life in one 
person, caused every one to think that before long, men 
would revert back, if not to the ancient, at least to some- 
thing resembling the ancient monarchy. Of course we 
were desirous of beholding this commencement of the new 
government, and without making any decision whether the 
people were right in bestowing, or Bonaparte in accept- 
ing, supreme power for life, we wished very much to be 
witnesses of a novel state of things, novel in a country, 
too, where every thing had been so for the last ten years- 

I much wished myself to get to Paris, not from any in- 
ordinate wish to see the celebrated person whose name and 
exploits had filled Europe so long a time, (for had I felt 
such a wish, it would have been diminished a« good deal 
by his assumption of permanent power) but from natural 
anxiety to view that city, the scene of so many revolu- 
tionary horrors — the established arbitress of taste and 
elegance — and the depository of all that was exquisite and 
valuable of antiquity, and modern productions of art. 
Mrs. Fox, also, very naturally began to feel warmly de- 
sirous of getting to this centre of every thing interesting 
and elegant; and as Mr. Fox studied the gratification of 
all her wishes, every thing concurred to make the remain- 
der of our journey rapid. 



im 



We did not omit, however, seeing every thing at Brus- 
sels. VEcole central^ (in the old palace) is upon a very 
grand scale : there is attached to it a botanical garden — a 
collection of paintings — a school for drawing and for 
mathematics — for experimental physics, chemistry, &c. &c. 
— Here we also saw near two hundred very fine orange- 
trees ; they had belonged to the Austrian government, to 
archdukes, or archduchesses, never more destined to 
command at Brussels. There were, as we heard, 
many houses in and about Brussels to let. Living is very 
reasonable here, not more than the quarter of what it is 
in England. I can suppose no situation more desirable for 
a person of moderate fortune : the upper part of the town 
is remarkably handsome and airy : the houses round the 
part which stands high, have a delightful appearance and 
charming prospect, as the country all around is rich and 
beautiful, well enclosed, and much dressed and ornamented 
with trees, having a forest on one side. The church hadj 
under the revolutionary mania, suffered some strange dedi- 
cation, according to the prevailing mode of renouncing re- 
velation, and flying from every rational and established 
mode of faith. I sav/ the inscription, but do not exactly 
recollect it. The church was, at this time, about to be 
restored to its ancient ministers, and its venerable worship, 
and the inscription was doubtless, soon effaced. The 
theatre we found large, but dirty, and the actors not very 
good. The most pleasing sight, however, was the Allee 
verte^ illuminated. This is a very fine avenue, a mile, I 
think, long, wiih double rows of trees on each side. It 
was beautifully lighted up, and filled with a great number 
of people, chiefi37- Flemings. Their strange, grotesque, 
and clumsy appearance, was very diverting. They walked 
about as if willing to exhibit their uncouth forms to curious 
spectators : and enjoyed, in a considerable degree, their 
promenade. A strong military guard paraded up and 
down, which to me added nothing to the agrement of the 
eveirmg: as, however, it w?.5 very fine, the company nu- 



Ill 

merous and orderly, and the whole quite a new and really 
grand sight, our little party enjoyed it much. 

The good Flemings would doubtless have liked it better, 
had it not been to celebrate a new order of things ; but as 
they had little to regret under the Austrian domination of 
latter years, they did not feel much pain on this festive 
occasion ; although the order that those neglecting to illu- 
minate in town, should be delivered to the municipal offi- 
cers, could not have impressed them with a very compla- 
cent opinion of the new government. The duties laid on 
here and at Antwerp were said to be equally high. 

Here we heard of Monsieur Chauvelin, who was said 
to live a retired private life in Burgundy. The remem- 
brance of this gentleman in 1802, brought with it many 
important considerations. Had lord Grenville possessed 
the conciliating manners and enlarged views of Mr. Fox; 
had the minister for foreign affairs in England, or the 
then chancellor of the exchequer, who was minister for 
all affairs, been capable of rationally weighing the events 
of futurity with intuitive judgment, and of viewing, with 
the benignant eye of a true statesman, the effervescence 
and agitations of a long oppressed nation ; nay, had the 
ministers of the day, in 1793, possessed the hearts of 
Englishmen of the old school, they would have venerated 
the struggle for liberty, made by a sister nation, which 
had been long ridiculed and despised for its subservience 
to a grand monarqiie^ and they would respectfully have 
said, every nation is free to choose her own government, 
our^s has asserted this right at all times when necessary. 
Let the French nation decide for itself. You, M. Chauve- 
lin, accredited as the minister of France, shall be acknow- 
ledged as the representative of a great nation ; if she be 
free, we respect her more and more; but upon her internal 
commotions, or her form of government, monarchical or 
republican, we say not a word. Had such been lord Gren- 
ville's language, on the momentous day w^hen he ignomi- 



"tiiGusly dismissed M. Chauvelin, what seas of blood would 
have been spared to France and all Europe. 

Monsieur Chauvelin, in his retirement, has nothing to 
reproach himself with; can lord Grenville, at Dropmore, 
calmly reconsider past occurrences between him and that 
gentleman, and not feel anguish and remorse at rashness, 
whereby the relations between England and France were 
rudely snapped asunder, and a long, almost interminable, 
contest has been entailed upon the two nations. 1 do not 
recollect Mr. Fox saying a word about M. Chauvelin 
while at Brussels. I could not but think of past events, 
when I heard his name there, in 1802 ;— and now, in 1811, 
I think a great deal more upon a sober, and if I may call 
it, an historiciil view, of M. Chauvelin's affair. 

At Brussels lived the ex-director Barras. As this per- 
son had acted so conspicuous a part in the republic, I 
should have been glad to have seen him ; bat as our time 
was short, and all our thoughts now turned to Paris, we 
had no opportunity of meeting him. To him Bonaparte 
owed his introduction, and elevation in the republic t 
through him he obtained his command in Italy, which cov- 
ered him with so much glory; and at that critical moment, 
when the fate of the directory was in suspense, the abdi- 
cation of Barras, and his testimony in favour of general 
Bonaparte, greatly conduced to assist his views. Mr. 
Fox, however, manifested no wish to see this ex-director. 

Staying one day at Brussels, we dined in the country^ 
at the house of Mr. Walkyis, a merchant of high respecta- 
bility,-— his house commanding one of the finest views I 
ever beheld. A most amiable and hospitable famity, and 
an elegant entertainment, awaited us here. It seemed to 
me a revival of those days, when Flanders was independent, 
and the ally of English monarchs. When Edward the 1st 
was the guest and friend of her citizens, and gratefully 
Acknowledged the efficacy of their assistance. There was 



113 

an air of liberality and freedom in the society, as this 
charming mansion of Mr. Walkyis, extremely respectable, 
and the opulence and taste, every where prevalent, was not 
less striking. Mr. and Mrs. Fox enjoyed the day much, 
and we left the house in the evening^ with great regret. 
No person could maintain the dignified character of a 
wealthy and enlightened merchant better than Mr. Walkyis. 
His fortune had suffered something in the Flemish distur- 
bances, but this had nothing altered the hospitality of his 
nature, or the ease of his manners. The loss he bore as a 
philosopher, and his remaining fortune he enjoyed, and 
continued to enjoy, in a manner worthy of praise. Mr. 
Fox was here, and I believe somewhat on this latter ac- 
count, peculiarly attentive and affable : his manner seemed 
to say, if you have been deprived of some of your wealth, 
do not imagine that your friends will respect you less. In- 
deed, this great man, who in general might be deemed 
simple and retiring in his manner in society, until drawn 
forth, omitted no occasion, when the feelings of others 
were concerned, and when they might be deemed particu- 
larly susceptible of coldness or neglect, of coming forward, 
in a marked manner, to evince respect to, and to cheer, by 
a sort of irresistible kindness of demeanour and conver- 
sation, those whom he thought at all depressed, or in any 
way affected by misfortune. 

We left Brussels on the 1 7th of August, and found the 
day extremely hot : we recurred again to Tom Jones, and 
forgot the little inconveniences of the journey. We were 
now drawing to the end of our tour, and had been much 
indebted to the genius of Fielding for amusement and in- 
struction. We had accompanied Tom Jones through the 
stages of his youth and manhood, where, if exceptionable 
parts were to be found, we had also found much to ap- 
prove and admire. The hero, though faulty, was not 
hardened; and if necessity drove him to some meannesses, 
he felt his debasement, and despised his own conduct ! 
Such a character, though not precisely to be held up for 

p 



114 



imitation, is, however, more instructive than the heroes of 
romance, the faultless or too exalted knight, who does not 
seem of our species ; as Tom Jones is also with all his in- 
discretions on his head, far preferable to those much more 
dangerous personages in modern novels, whose voluptuous 
authors seem to conceive, that libertine immorality, clothed 
in eloquent language, are sure to gain approbation and 
support. 

Mr. Fox was fond of novels, but not of any of this 
latter class. Their verbiage, and want of fidelity to nature, 
were sure to disgust him. I have read to him, at times, 
a great many, but none of this description. In the Ara- 
bian Nights Entertainments he delighted much, (and who 
would not?) for there was to be found a faithful and ini- 
mitable picture of oriental manners and customs as well as 
much ingenuity, fancy, and knowledge of human nature ; 
but in the pages of sensuality, expanding itself in various 
shapes in the modern novel, he found no pleasure ; and 
the irreligious passages gave him still less, as no man 
treated the sacred subject of religion with greater respect 
and forbearance than he did. We were now journeying, 
with Tom Jones as our companion, through a fertile coun- 
try, and dined at Mons, a large old town, containing no- 
thing interesting. 

In this day's journey we passed the celebrated field of 
Gemappe. The ground is mostly flat, excepting a small 
sloping hill, extending a considerable way. It was here 
Dumouriez's glory reached its acme ; here was decided 
the fate of the Netherlands, and it may be said, the fate 
of France and of Europe. General Dumouriez shewed 
extraordinary spirit and activity on this celebrated field, 
having thrown off, as was said to us, both his coat and 
waistcoat, and fought in that manner in the battle. At 
that period France was struggling amidst great difficulties. 
The battle of Gemappe gave her a noble countrj^, and 
raised her military reputation so high, that, as the spirits 



115 



of the nation became elevated, the course of the coalesced 
powers grew doubtful; from thence, there was abundant 
proof, in the extraordinary energy displayed by the French 
army, and their commander, on this occasion, that the at- 
tempt to controul the internal regulation of France was 
likely to recoil upon the different crowned heads embarking 
in it. General Dumouriez, unfortunately for himself, did 
not continue in this career of glory ; he, too, like the min- 
isters and statesmen of the day, miscalculated upon the 
state of things in France, and imagined that a government 
which had totally forfeited the confidence of the people, 
could be restored to strength and life. 

Royalty had lost its former attractions ; and, unless 
Louis XVI. had left a son of uncommon promise, as to 
talent and disposition, capable of reuniting in himself the 
hopes of the nation, and exempt from the influence of a 
mother who had courted the hatred and contempt of the 
people, there was little probability of its restoration in the 
line of the Bourbons. The slender hopes of the young 
prince, were rendered smaller by general Dumouriez's 
subsequent defection, and by the equivocal conduct pur- 
sued by the allied powers. 

We passed through a fine country, the whole of the day's 
journey, and arrived in the evening at Valenciennes, an 
old-fashioned and dull-looking town. As this place had 
surrendered to the duke of York, it was another memo- 
randum of the errors of the allies ; it was taken possession 
of in the name of the emperor of Germany, and thus that 
very disposition for conquest imputed to the French, was 
manifested by the allies. I perceive very little disposition 
in Mr. Fox, to be interested in the military events attend- 
ing the revolution : whether his disposition was averse to 
those deeds of blood, dignified in history by a false and 
mischievous glare of thoughtless applause, or that (as I 
incline to imagine) he mourned secretly over all those ca- 
lamities which he had ineffectually raised his voice to pre- 



116 

vent, he said little on such points. The agriculture of the 
country, passages of Tom Jones, natural history, the poets, 
and all those^^asant little occurrences which diversify the 
scene, and entertain those who travel with a desire to be 
pleased, as well as informed, occupied him. We were now 
shortly to enter into the splendour and bustle of Paris. 

It was with some regret I felt this, though certainly 
one must be very insensible, when nearly touching the goal, 
not to feel an almost breathless expectation at the thought 
of seeing so celebrated a city. My regret arose from con- 
sidering that that complete and perfect enjoyment of the 
society of Mr. Fox, which made our tour so happy, was 
about to end. Sincere friendship has little need of the 
amusement of the world, to make the hours pass swiftly | 
it rests satisfied with the enjoyments it can always supply, 
and is ever jealous of those crowds which interrupt, but 
cannot add to its satisfaction. In the latter part of our 
little tour, I had experienced this truth most powerfully. 
Mr. Fox had throughout appeared so happy, and cheerfulj 
that our small society wanted nothing of the charm of a 
new and brilliant court, to increase its felicity. It was 
with this mixed sensation that I now saw our distance 
from Paris hourly diminish. 

We stopped for some time at Cambray. It is a re- 
spectable town. The inn we drove to had been a convent. 
The church was converted into a barn, and though full 
of the produce of harvest, and of farming utensils, the or- 
gan remained still in its place at the upper end. This was 
another melancholy testimony of the violence of the times, 
when religion suffers outrage, from the direful ascendancy 
of the illiterate mob. The celebrated manufactory of cambrie 
still holds its ground here, though that also had suffered. 
It was now reviving, and we saw some specimens of as- 
tonishing beauty and fineness. Who could pass through 
Cambray, without recollecting Fenelon, that enchanting au- 
thor and excellent man ? How grateful the remembrance of 
him, the benefactor of his country, and friend of man ! Hov^^ 



117 

pleasing after contemplating the vestiges of revolutionary- 
rage, and the traces of desperate innovators, who sought 
not the happines of their fellow subjects, so much as their 
own aggrandizement, and revenge against those upper 
classes, whose faults were to be ascribed to their education, 
to a bad government, to the frailty of weak man ; not to 
any studied plan of tyranny, or depressing their inferiors. 

"We observed a considerable cultivation of poppies 
through French Flanders, which have a charming effect. 
when in bloom, as we saw them. On our approach to 
Valenciennes, the country visibly became inferior to that 
called the Netherlands : the agriculture was not so good, 
and the houses were very indifferent compared to those of 
the Flemings. We entered old France at Personne. As 
in Flanders the traces of ancient freedom, and of republi- 
can prosperity, had plainly declared the excellency of the 
constitution enjoyed for ages by the people, so in France 
there was an obvious contrast, and the withering hand of 
despotism had marked it in another manner. The rule of 
the Bourbons, for so many centuries, had cramped the 
powers of the French, and evidently enfeebled the charac- 
ter of the nation. These monarchs no longer possessing 
the noble character of king Henry the Fourth, his valour 
and generosity had degenerated into royal voluptuaries, 
and, trusting the administration of affairs to their courtiers, 
and mistresses, had disgraced the government of the na- 
tion, at the head of which they were placed. In a coun- 
try so ruled, one could not wonder at seeing houses and 
agriculture inferior to those of Flanders. 

The last days of our journey proved extremely hot. 
After*leaving Valenciennes we returned to Tom Jones. I 
recollect a circumstance which affected me a good deal in 
reading this work : it was the description of a great com- 
moner, at the end of one of the chapters. It seemed to 
paint the character of Mr. Fox with so much truth and 



118 



animation, paying a tribute to his benevolence, than which 
nothing was ever better deserved, that I could not proceed 
for some moments. Why do tears sometimes intrude 
when the most grateful sensations, and none but pleasing 
affections of the mind, are touched ? I do not know ; un- 
less it be that the warmth of gratitude may enervate the 
mind at certain moments ; and that, when it cannot repay 
obligations by actions, it speaks its sense of them through 
tears. Mr. Fox said nothing. He was peculiarly unwil- 
ling to ascribe any thing of a flattering nature to himself, 
and was, generally, rather embarrassed by any thing o£ 
that kind. How very unlike the generality of celebrated 
men, who but too often require applause and flattery to 
feed their vanity. 

On our last day's journey, and some hours before we 
entered Paris, we finished Tom Jones. This book had 
been our pleasant companion, and we now took leave of it 
with regret. I was not then aware, alas ! that I had closed 
its pages forever — that I should never again travel and read 
the works of this excellent English author in the society of 
Mr. Fox ! I have never since looked at the book, but it 
will be a memorial to me of moments I can never hope to 
find equalled: they are gone; and he who listened with 
such complacency and cheerfulness, shall not hear the 
voice of his friends, and those dearest to him, again. But 
the remembrance of this little tour can never die with 
those who travelled with him ! Can they forget his con- 
stant urbanity, the pleasantness of his manners, and his 
easy participation in all the gaieties of our journey ? 
Always serene, always happy in himself, he never incom- 
moded or troubled any one, and those he had chosen as his 
companions, he never failed to treat and acknowledge as 
his equals. 

I must not, however, omit to mention another book I 
read a little on the road and at Brussels. I allude to the 
Orlando Furioso of Ariosta. Of this work Mr. Fox was 



119 

excessively fond ; and as I agreed with him in this par- 
tiality, the reading some stanzas and conversing on the 
beauties of this delightful poet, was another source of gra- 
tification not to be passed by, in giving a sketch of our 
short tour. Mr. Fox held Ariosta very high, thinking 
him equal, in some respects, to Virgil, and even his great- 
est of favourites, Homer. The fertility of his fancy, and 
the sublime and tender passages of his noble poem, delight- 
ed him much : doubtless, the charming language in which 
it is written, and of which he was, with much reason, very 
fond, conduce to make the Orlando Furioso of Ariosta 
one of the most captivating of poems ; for as Greek may 
be deemed among the ancients the finest and most poetical 
of their languages, so the Italian, among moderns, is 
beyond all competition, that which is best adapted to 
poetry and the stage. 

I now regret that I did not take the Iliad or the Odyssy 
with me. These works Mr. Fox preferred to all others 
of the ancient classics; and, was a choice to have been 
made, would have yielded all to have preserved them. 
His letters show his strong admiration of Homer; and 
my readers will perceive in them, that he estimated Euri- 
pides very highly, and perhaps preferred him to all dra- 
matic writers ; yet Homer was the great poet, with him, 
who included every beauty, and had the fewest defects in 
his work, of any ancient or modern genius. 

Had another tour taken place*— had Mr. Fox been 
spared health and life — -had the calm of St. Anne's Hill 
not been exchanged for public business and nightly de- 
bates at the house of commons, these divine works might 
have been read in happier and still more auspicious hours. 

Mr. Fox anxiously desired to see Constantinople, and, 
I am persuaded, would have gone there, if peace and lei- 
sure had allowed him. He spoke not ambiguously upon the 






subject) and when he said a little, it was tantamount to a 
grt-atdeal from others ; at least, there was a manner when 
he was quite earnest, and anxious, that was most intelli^ 
gible, and was sure never to be belied, however distant 
the period of accomplishing it might be. To have visited 
Constantinople with Mr. Fox ; to have stood on the loniaa 
shore, where Homer composed his noble verses, and to 
have investigated that country from whence that armament 
issued, whose exploits he so admirably sung, would have 
been a rare and enviable enjoyment ; those favourite vo- 
lumes in which we read the venerated author are lying 
before me. I am carried in my fancy through the noble 
work, and can almost suppose myself sailing through the 
Hellespont, looking out for ruins, and listening for the 
sound of some melancholy lyre, breathing its lament, and 
accompanying the verses of Homer : it was too great pre- 
sumption to have hoped this, but it is natural to reject 
it. Mr. Fox's observation on the Iliad, made on the 
spot, and those scenes where the principal actors are re- 
presented as having struggled and fought so long, would 
have been interesting to every scholar, and every person 
of feeling. What lover of Homer would not delight to 
have accompanied him, even in idea, to these classic 
spots, concecrated by genius, and immortalized by time 
and general consent. A cold critic's eye might detect 
mistakes, and annihilate the fond imagination of walking 
on the ground, rendered precious and venerable by Homer; 
but a reasonable presumption would have sufficed, I am sure, 
had this favourite plan of Mr. Fox taken place to have satis- 
fied him as to the scenery, and shores once animated by the 
contestof Grecians and Trojans. Achilles mourning over his 
lyre, on the lonely shore; Hector, a breathless corps, dragged 
round Troy ; the aged Priam begging for his son's remains ; 
the clangor of arms : the vile but sublime machinery of 
heathen deities ', the innumerable touches from nature; the 
'very colouring of the sea : the noise of its waves ; all the 
nimilies of the divine poet would revive, and, warmed by 



121 

imagination's glowing power, have been felt as if time 
had retroceded. Troy's towers stood trembling before us, 
and all modern systems and histories been blotted away, 
there can be no doubt that the scene of action which a 
poet celebrates, and has drawn his images and descriptions, 
as much as possible, from, and which is connected with 
history, must be the proper spot for the perusal of his poemo 
It was a characteristic of Mr. Fox, that to all the acumen 
and knowledge of the scholar and critic, he united the 
.sensibility and fire of the poet ; his remarks, therefore, 
drawn forth on the theatre of Grecian and Trojan valour, 
would have had no common interest. 

If I may be permitted to suggest an idea quite my own, 
but, I think, corroborated by the tenor of this great man's 
character, I should be inclined to suggest that his intention 
of going to Constantinople, was a strong symptom of hav- 
ing neither expectation nor desire of becoming minister- 
His indifference in regard to power was so unfeigned and 
so great, that I am persuaded he looked forward with more 
hope and more pleasure to this future tour, than to any 
elevation which his country could bestow. 

The tour to Constantinople would not have been like 
the short trip through Fknders and Holland ; a year or 
two would have been required. Constantinople, Ionia, 
Greece, and the Grecian isles, perhaps Egypt, would have 
required a good deal of time; and he who had so well 
profited by the historian's pages, would have found abun- 
dant opportunity for examination and reflection in thesa 
countries. Had he travelled thus a few years, the unani- 
mous voice of these islands would have called for him, 
and the misguided, but well-meaning people of England, 
would have recognised that with the energies produced by 
a radical reform, and with the abilities of Mr. Fox to 
wield them, they might defy every enemy, and that, thus, 
the monarch would be secured, and the people relieved* 






122 



The inscfUtable ways of heaven denied this course of 
events ; Constantinople was not visited ; I lean over the 
Iliad and Odyssy in silence ; I turn the leaves with*afFec- 
tionate and mournful veneration ; I look at them with a 
wandering eye; their honoured possessor no nwre is 
seen. 






^^g ' *^^; 



CHAPTER Vt, 



AS this sketch of o,ur short tour to Paris draws tD a 
cjonclusion, I shall introduce some remarks, which I hope 
will not be deemed unapt or ill-placed. 

On this tour Mr. Fox appeared to me in quite a new 
light ; maintaining all the dignity of his character, he was 
easy, affable, and cheerful; the little obstacles, disappoint- 
ments, or unpleasantnesses of the way never ruffled him ; 
he paid all the bills in the different coins and reckoning of 
the different countries, with astonishing facility ; never 
occasioned any delay on the road; and, consulting the 
comfort and convenience of Mrs. Fox in every thing, 
seemed willing to enjoy every thing as we travelled, anji 
to desire no attendance or attention himself. 

Agriculture occupied a great deal of his observation ; 
and the interest he took in it was strong, and founded on 
his own practical knowledge. Nothing I admired more 
in his character, at this time, than his entire abandonment 
to the scenes and objects around him. There was nothing 
of the mere Englishman to be perceived ; the man of 
•science and fashion, an observer of nature, pleased with 



124 



every thing, a bigot to no country or prejudices, but an 
enlightened gentleman, and the friend to his fellow- 
creature, whether French, Dutch, or Flemish, without 
cavilling at their manners, customs, government, or re- 
ligion. 

On the whole journey a reprimand, or intemperate word 
did not escape him ; and though, from the extreme heat, 
and his being rather corpulent, he suffered inconvenience 
often, yet he never evinced the least peevishness or im- 
patience. I observed him, both as to his own little party, 
and the people on the road, to be, in all things, eminently 
forbearing, and saw that he even put the best construction 
on things, and was the first to extenuate or find an apology 
for deficiencies in others. 

On the score of religion, I perceived that he did not 
merely tolerate^ for that word ill applied to his disposition 
on sacred matters, but was truly benignant ; he conceived 
that all human beings enjoyed the exercise of religious 
worship, and the self-possession of religious opinions, as 
a matter of right, not to be controlled by their fellow men : 
that inoffensive and good citizens did not require the per- 
mission of others, for this mental enjoyment, and that all 
were entitled to honour the Deity, in a decent and pious 
manner, without reflection or reproach. There never es- 
caped from his lips one disrespectful word regarding 
religion ; never one doubtful smile was seen in his 
countenance in a place of v/orship, or the slightest dero- 
gation from a solemn and respectful regard for all around 
him. He was well aware how much nations, families, and 
individuals, dislike interference in the secret and consci- 
entious worship of the mind, when it communicates with 
God, or communes with itself upon sacred subjects : in 
fact, as a statesman he was too wise, as a christian too 
charirable and sincere, as a man too good and benevolent 
to vyish to meddle with religion, and become a spiritual 
despot dictating, when every man who has the pride and 



feelings of man, desires to be left free. Had we travelled 
through the Netherlands, predisposed to depreciate and 
condemn every thing catholic^ how much would our en- 
joyment have been diminished ? The golden harvest would 
have waved less luxuriantly, the people have been despi- 
sed, and their excellent husbandry and domestic virtues 
been undervalued.-— liad we again disliked presbyterian- 
is?n, much of Holland would have lost its charm, animated 
as it is by commerce, and yet breathing the air, and having 
the port of a republic ? Religious antipathy is the most 
withering sentiment which corrodes the mind, more bitter 
than envy — more deep than hatred, and more permanent 
than revenge — it distorts history — perverts facts — and can 
be fully gratified only by extermination. Through the 
fertile and happy countries v^'here we passed, I saw much 
to delight and to instruct — saw their agriculture flourish- 
ing — their houses comfortable, and their people possessing 
much of the solid enjoyments of life. I asked no one 
was he a catholic, or a presbyterian, or a Lutheran ; — if 
every one was hospitable and friendly, it would have been, 
base to pry into the interior of his mind, and require th^ 
credentials of faith to qualify him for civil society.- 

Mr. Fox's love of paintings was another disposition 
much conducive to his enjoyment in travelling : in this 
there was nothing of false taste : nature, not the favourite 
master, being ever his guide, and the object of his admira- 
tion. He relished much, also, the picturesque and domes- 
tic scenes of real life, was pleased with whatever had ef- 
fect and merit, and gave to every thing its peculiar claim 
to it. Nothing is more valuable to the traveller, than 
his love of pictures, be they animated originals, or their 
faithful representations. With such a fund of enjoyment 
in his breast, a man is constantly enjoying, as he passes 
along ; and if he has none of the anti-social prejudices 
alluded to above, he at no time possesses more real happi- 
ness than in thus observing, and thus, in a thousand ways^s 
enriching his mindo 



12^ 

Mr. Fox, besides, was entertained with all the species 
of minor comedy, which is so constantly exhibiting in com- 
mon life : he was often amused, when others got angry ; 
and he extracted entertainment from what would much 
have incommoded gravity and pride, or disturbed the 
temper of ordinary travellers. 

I have adverted to his knowledge of botany and agri- 
culture, which also were sources of great pleasure to him 
tipon this journey. There is no species of information 
more useful to carry abroad than this ; I should in- 
cline to think it almost indispensable ; for the various 
productions of irature, their cultivation and uses, present 
so much amusement to the traveller, and are so interesting 
to him who is conversant in them, that a great part of the 
benefit is lost to him who goes abroad quite insensible to, 
and ignorant of, the practicable good of agriculture. It 
is a science which interests all in society ,~it is a subject 
of the utmost importance to the great landholder, to the 
man of moderate fortune, to the farmer, and to the cotta- 
ger, and I may add to the man of feeling. 

I observed, however, in this tour, that military affairs, 
fortifications, sieges, fields of battle, scenes of slaughter, 
&c. did not at all interest Mr. Fox : if I had said, that 
the latter disgusted him, I should not be wrong. His 
mind turned to every object connected with arts and sci- 
ences, but he did not dwell with any satisfaction upon the 
bloody effects of human ambition and discord. 

With the qualities and dispositions I have described, it 
would be superfluous to say, that Mr. Fox's reflections 
and observations, on this little journey, given to the pub- 
lic in a perfect state, and written at length, would have 
been invaluable; he wrote a short journal of dates and 
distances, which is not deemed complete or interesting 
enough to submit to the public eye, having no intention 



127 



beyond a little book of memorandum for his own private 
recurrence. 

As our last day's journey was wearing away, I could 
not avoid meditating on the history of the last ten years. 
Recollecting that we had now left the conquests of France, 
more incorporated, and identified with herself, I could 
not but reflect on her career, and how short her stride, 
from anarchy to permanent government, the form of a 
mighty empire. In 1796 Bonaparte had commenced 
his Italian campaigns, and in 1800 he had attained su- 
preme power. We were shortly to see this celebrated, 
and now elevated character, and the government and forms, 
rising from a new order of things. It was not, however, 
without painful imaginations, that one approached the city 
of Paris. The recollection of the multitude of lives im- 
molated upon the shrine of sanguinary ambition, was almost 
appalling. The best and most enlightened patriots swept off 
an one common ruin, — ^their remains unhonoured, and their 
families living in obscurity, indigence, and misery. It was 
a sickening, yet unavoidable reflection. And is this city, 
I meditated,' — is this city to be stamped with infamy, and 
marked with blood for ever ? Are the massacres, and re- 
ligious wars of old times, too, to rise up, and add to* 
these frightful thoughts ? the cold-blooded tyranny of 
Louis the 11th — ^the dreadful era of Charles the 9th — his 
perfidious mother — and of Henry the 3d. — the ambitious 
genius keeping alive the flame of discord,- — the despotism 
of Richelieu, the profligate regent — Louis the 15th ener- 
vating their minds and ruining their government — the Car» 
lovingian and Capetian races now extinct — the last of the 
reigning Capets mouldering in some disregarded spot, the 
victim of the crimes of his ancestors, and to the presump- 
tion of a blind confederacy, who encouraged and prompt- 
ed his want of good faith, and could not support him in the 
hands of an enraged people, — and Bonaparte, — ^r— the first 
consul of France, was not to be forgotten at the moment 
of entering Paris, Respecting that great man, I felt a 



1^8 



thousand mixed sensations, — attached to liberty, and ex€° 
crating those who trample it down, I was tempted to pro- 
nounce him its greatest enemy, to almost abjure the idea 
of seeing him, and in fancied vindication of the republic 
of France's wrongs, to consign him to contempt and in» 
difference. But where am I wandering ? If Bonaparte be 
an usurper, it is France which must pronounce him such, 
—-it is France which must punish, — it is France which 
must dethrone. A stranger travels to improve his mind, 
converse with men of genius, and to view what is curious 
and interesting. He is not to kindle his anger against 
governments, or to allow himself the liberty of insulting, 
or lowering the heads of nations. By these meditations, 
I calmed the wrath of that zeal which was blinding me ^ 
and remembering the description of the wise Ulysses, 

I considered that knowledge was the great object, and that 
passion interfering must be very adverse to a clear view 
of things. My reader may easily anticipate the remark, 
that any companion of Mr. Fox would, if not incorrigibly 
stupid, imbibe such a mode of thinking respecting foreign 
powers and their rulers. Never did this illustrious man 
appear more truly dignified than in speaking on such sub- 
jects; his memory, running over history with ease and 
facility, furnished him with ample demonstration, that civil 
wars end usually in the domination of a successful general, 
and he thought it idle to lament over this inevitable 
effect. 

I recollect in a conversation with him, comparing 
Bonaparte to Augustus, on his attainment of power, 
— " Surely not so cruel !" was his remark in reply. 
At the time it seemed to me a just parallel, but it does 
not now. I agree with Mr. Fox now, that there is not 
the cruelty ; and, disdaining the cry raised to inflame the 
vulgar mindj do not at ail thiDk it necessary to exclaim 



against vices we have no proof of, or cruelties very difii« 
cult to be ascertained, if practised at all. 

- But as Paris appeared in view, all my reflections gave 
way to pleasurable ideas. I rejoiced that the streets were 
no longer deluged with blood, and that this ingenious and 
elegant people reposed under a permanent government; 
and the amazing scene of splendor and novelty which I 
was touching, gave me an indescribable anxiety to be per- 
mitted to view its wonders. Although I had paid due 
homage to the solid glories of Flanders, and was of opi- 
nion with the excellent author of many invaluable works 
upon agriculture, " that in estimating human happiness, it 
is not a bad rule to suppose that where there is most show 
and splendor there is least enjoyment;" yet I was very 
sensible to the advantages of a temporary elevation, such 
as mine, in society, which gave me an opportunity, with . 
the countenance, and under the protection of England's 
most valued character upon the continent, of beholding 
every thing interesting in Paris. 

Our books were now laid aside. The busy town was 
before us. Entering one of the Fauxbourgs, we passed 
through the triumphal arch erected, I think, for Louis the 
14th, and shortly found ourselves at the hotel de Riche- 
lieu, which had been engaged for Mr. Fox. It was a 
striking fact, at our first opening our eyes in Paris, to find 
ourselves in the hotel of the ci devant mareschal due de 
Richelieu, one of the first and oldest peers of France, un- 
der the old regime. The apartments were superb, the 
garden very pretty, and an air of grandeur reigned through 
the whole. This was now a common hotel. Such was 
one prominent effect of a revolution, hurling the nobility 
and higher orders from affluence, and a most disproportion- 
ate height above the people, down to want and degrada- 
tion. I believe no change I had seen on the continent had 
struck me so much. I felt doubtful where I was. The 
furniture was superb, the rich silk hangings were elegantly 



13(5 

disposed, the mirrors were noble, and the ton ie ensemble 
quite worthy of its former noble owners. I expected to 
meet a mareschal of France of the old time, at every turn, 
and almost doubted whether taking a turn in the garden 
was not too great a liberty. The shade of departed great- 
ness seemed everywhere. There was much of the mourn- 
ful in this, and of a very peculiar kind ; — death, melan- 
choly as it is, is not half so much so as that dreary void, 
occasioned by absence and calamity ! One searches every 
where for something wanting, and which might be restor- 
ed — one perceives traces of former happiness rudely inter- 
rupted — one asks, where is the owner of these deserted 
Walls ; and shall he not return ? 

Two or three of Mr. Fox's friends came to him on the 
evening of his arrival ; and seeing this great man happy, 
and amongst his dear English friends and companions, the 
mournful impressions I had received, upon entering the 
hotel de Richelieu, wore away. I grew reconciled to the 
mansion of the ancient noble. New and pleasant thoughts, 
created by the visitors to Mr. Fox, began to arise. I 
forgot the mareschal due de Richelieu — the French revo- 
lution—its calamities and consequences ! Amidst all the 
ease of polished society, the independence of the English- 
man was perceptible on all sides — much was said of the 
amusements, and of the wonders of Paris, very little of 
the great man. There is a noble air of liberty amongst 
the nobility and higher classes of Englishmen, which, ad- 
ded to their other accomplishments, make them appear the 
most respectable of their class in Europe. I was not sor- 
ry to see, and to admire this in Paris ; nor was I less 
pleased to observe Mr. Fox's old and constant friends 
around him. So little was this truly great man solicitous 
about the movements of courts, or the attentions they be- 
stow, that I am satisfied he did not bestow one thought, 
this happy evening, upon that of St. Cloud. He was very 
cheerful, and well pleased at having ended his journey — - 
rejoiced that Mrs. Fox was quite well, notwithstanding 



131 

great inconvenience from heat — and animated by the novel 
scene, and variety of objex:ts, crowding upon his attention. 

The delightful climate of Paris added to the charm. 
We supped in the garden of the hotel. Towards the end 
of August no moisture, no wind incommoded us : all was 
serene and mild — ^nothing could be more delicious*— the 
fatigues of the journey were past — and we turned to a 
new scene, with health unhurt, and spirits increased. Be- 
tween eleven and twelve, retiring to rest, we rested calmly^ 
having now completed a little tour, which, if exceeded ia 
variety, extent, and duration, by others, was as rational 
and pleasing, and comprised within it as much of social 
enjoyment, and of useful observation, as any ever under- 
taken. 



CHAPTER VIL 



THE various points of attraction in Paris irresisti- 
bly drew the mind in different directions. The new 
government, just rendered permanent and hereditary in 
Bonaparte, was presenting itself to the public eye. Under 
it, the stern republican and angry royalist were ranging 
themselves, unable to struggle against an order of things, 
emerging from that chaos of conflicting interests, which 
until now had agitated the interior of France. 

The imposing character of Bonaparte, a warrior and a 
statesman of no common note, had acquired an ascendancy 
which he was admirably qualified to maintain. " You en- 
deavoured," said he to Monsieur La Fayette, on his 
thanking him for his liberation from the dungeons of Ger- 
many, " to establish the solecism of a monarch at the head 
of a republic." A thing he conceived illusive and vain ; 
yet he was now himself making the practical experiment 
of a military president at the helm for life, with a nation 
organized for military as much as civil purposes. 

I soon heard it whispered that the consulship for life 
was but a preliminary step to the assumption of higher 
dignity, and that the title of emperor of the Gauls was 
thajt to which the first consul aspired. It was not then 



1^ 

eredited, but no one could say it was improbable or im- 
possible* All this at first seemed to me an outrage upon 
liberty, but reflection came again to the aid of my judg- 
ment, and required a fair investigation of the state of 
France, before decision. If fluctuation of councils be 
most dangerous at all times, it is more peculiarly so in a 
new state, unqualified by Roman simplicity, and grandeur 
of character, to produce successive great men, with the 
same purity of motives and vigour of conduct* A direc- 
tory of five or three, changed by rotation and election^ 
was not only an unwise, but an unsafe form of executive 
government, and a permanency for life, in some one per- 
son, was required. 

There is no doubt but that at this tinie the fixing of the 
consulship for life, had a good effect upon the continent, 
and added much to the respect and dignity of France, in 
foreign courts. Peace contributed to make the event more 
striking. The European powers, fatigued with their fruit- 
less coalitions against France, and discovering that their 
warfare had but invigorated and aggrandized her, had laid 
down the sword. The ambassadors from all nations crowd- 
ed to Paris to pay their congratulations to the first consul, 
on his accession to permanent and supreme power. After 
an unparalleled struggle of more than ten years, France 
could not but see with exultation, grounded on a sense of 
self-preservation, and of vast and glorious conquests 
combined, her capital thus crowded, and her safety and 
her pre-eminence so triumphantly achieved ! It was pri- 
vately stated, that when Bonaparte returned from Egypt, 
and that the change of government was in agitation, he, 
Moreau, and Joubert, had been thought of as fit heads for 
the republic ; that the latter had been nominated by the 
party who conceived that a military character was requisite 
at the head of the nation, and that after he lost his life in 
battle, Moreau and Bonaparte were^ those to whom the 
armies alone, subsequently, looked up, but the former was 
induced, by the. latter's persuasions, to yield his pretensions 



134 



to him. Without vouching for this, I cannot assent to the 
opinion that Buonaparte could have had any competitor of 
a formidable nature, either upon being chosen first consul, 
or upon his attaining the consulship for life. 

Moreau was the only rival he had, but he was too iftdo- 
lent, and too unfit to be the head of a party to give him 
much trouble. Moreau, however, even at this brilliant 
moment for Buonaparte, enjoyed a high reputation with 
the army and nation, and I am quite satisfied, afterwards 
lost all his reputation and weight by mismanagement and 
imbecility, very inconsistent with his former character. 
Sufficient,! however, may be deduced from these opinions, 
having existed in France, if the facts are disputable, to 
shew that it was the general sense of the French, that one 
person as the head of the executive was wanted, and whe- 
ther Joubert, Moreau, or Bonaparte, had been selected, 
that a change was in contemplation as necessary and indis- 
pensable ; the consulship for life was but a modification of 
the measure, and Bonaparte in procuring it, seemed not 
much to shock the feelings of the people, nor did he 
violate any constitution, as there was none of permanence 
to be assailed by him. 

The approaching levee at the Thuilleries, which was 
held every month, as it was the first after this remarkable 
era, which promised to be a memorable one for France, 
we accordingly understood would be most splendid and 
numerous. Already we perceived the English were treated 
with marked civility and kindness, and the great rival na- 
tion, England, was considered as the equal of France, 
(and all others as inferiors) in glory and political impor- 
tance. 

The appearance of Paris was to me pleasing, though 
the narrowness of the streets and the want of foot\vays on 
each side were unpleasant symptoms of a former disregard 
to the health and comfort of the people. As yet no liveries 



135 



upon servants, or arms upon carriages were seen; a re- 
publican and respectable plainness met the eye, the con- 
trast of glaring opulence, and decent mediocrity, was not 
manifest, and this agreeable effect of the revolution re- 
mained, whilst returning good sense had also corrected 
that frightful extreme of slovenliness, and neglect of dress, 
which a republican mania had consecrated, as a test of 
principle, and a mark of patriotism! 

The new embroidered dress of the municipal officers, 
caught my eye in the streets ; I found myself in Paris, the 
seat of so many Bourbons, once almost adored, now blot- 
ted from the calendar of sovereigns, and a new throne 
quietly erecting at the Thuilleries ; a new dynasty, se- 
curely placing its feet upon the steps, and the recently ap- 
pointed officers of government, performing their functions. 
One could not but feel it a very novel moment in the nie- 
tropolis of a great nation ; the whole state machinery was 
opening to the view ; every wheel was beginning to move ; 
the first impulse was given, and the organized mass, obey*- 
ing the master hand, received motion gradually, and 
imparted it through the whole French territory. This 
operation in society, was not the less curious, because 
it was taking place without noise or agitation. The weari- 
ed nation tacitly approved ; peace was facilitating the work, 
and the fortunate director who presided, seemed necessi- 
tated to raise himself, to preserve, unhurt, the stupendous 
fabric upon which hung the happiness and security of mil- 
lions. Such were my thoughts, — I felt almost giddy at the 
view ; the destiny of forty millions was arranging before 
my eyes ; it was quite impossible for a number of English- 
men to meet, and to forbear saying, how astonishing;—^ 
what a business has been accomplished by William Pitt ; 
'-—what ?i friend has he been to the fortunes of Bonaparte. 

Another striking result, ^Iso, of the coalition war await* 
ed us in Paris. Here all was gold and silver. In London, 
a few guineas were with great difficulty procured from a 



136 

banker, as a matter of favour; in Paris, the feanker gave 
you your choice, silver or gold, and both were plentiful^ 
England having nothing but paper^ and France nothing 
but gald and silver ; a fact which spoke very intelligible 
language. How much should I have rejoiced that Mr* 
Pitt, accompanied by some vociferating members of parli- 
ament, or interested merchants, had been led to a Parisian 
banker's desk, and interrogated upon this difference. 

The phenomenon of abundance of gold and silver in 
France, and of nothing to be seen but paper in England, 
gave a short and pithy demonstration, how much the con- 
dition of the first had improved ; how much the latter 
had deteriorated in the course of the coalition war. The 
English minister's declarations proved, as well as those of 
the bank, to be promises which were never to be paid. 
This plain proof addressed to the senses, was of mighty 
value, after a contest, wherein right and wrong, practica- 
ble and impossible, true and false, had been so much con- 
founded, that men began to distrust their own under- 
standings. 

The stranger's first visit is probably to his banker, and 
his next is to the theatre. As Mr. Fox found himself hap- 
pily reunited to lord Holland and his family, after a con- 
siderable separation, we dined with them, and in the 
evening went to the Theatre Francois, Upon entering a 
French theatre for the first time, an Englishman finds a 
good deal to reconcile himself to. The want of powerful 
light throughout the house, intended to give greater effect 
to the stage, offends his taste at first, but he will end in 
approving, if he be not determined to prefer all the cus- 
toms of England. The darkness of the house, where the 
audience sit, gives greater effect to the brilliancy of the 
s-tage. Whoever has viewed with rapture the lofty sides of 
a distant glen, illuminated by an evening sun, whilst the 
country and the nearer parts were in shade, may conceive 
how much more effective and agreeable to nature's best 



137 

appearance, this manner of lighting the French stage is^ 
than that of throwing a noon day glare over every object, 
and destroying all contrast as well as shade. 

It is at a Parisian theatre that the character of the people 
is truly displayed. The most profound attention, the 
liveliest sensibility, the enthusiastic encouragement, afford- 
ed to the favourite or promising actors or actresses, — the 
instant reprobation and punishment of noise or tumult—* 
tears flowing profusely and unchecked, from male and fe- 
male spectators, at every pathetic and affecting passage of 
the piece, if tragic; with unrestrained cheerfulness, if 
tomic :— -and a just and honourable sympathy with every 
noble and grand sentiment, — ^proved to me, that this peo- 
ple deserved the character they have so long established 
on the continent for taste and elegance. 

The piece we saw was Andromaque^ in which Made- 
moiselle Duschenois, as Hermione^ obtained and deserved 
great applause. The French declamation is at first rather 
painful to an English ear, and I think a less-measured 
style, and studied tone, would much improve it. The 
unpleasantness wore quickly off, however, and I venture 
to pronounce that the passion, gesture, and tones, the 
gracefulness and sublime energy, which distinguish the 
French stage, are unrivalled. The shortness of the inter- 
vals between the acts are peculiarly favourable to preserv- 
ing the interests of the play. The actors seem to be hur- 
ried on by the torrent of their feelings ; there is no looking 
at the audience, and studying to catch their applause ; but 
the action is maintained with such animation, that one may 
forget their situation, and conceive ourselves overhearing 
the dialogue, and witnesses of actual events in human life. 

Mr. Fox enjoyed the French theatre very much; and 
as Racine was his favourite dramatic author, we went very 
shortly again to see " Phedrd'^ performed at the same the- 
atre. My readers, who know the Greek original, from 



138 

whence Racine has taken his play, are acquainted with the 
interesting character of Phedra in Euripides. They may 
imagine that I could not go in such company, and to such 
a performance, without a lively and anxious solicitude. 
I had, along with Mr. Fox, much admired the Phedra of 
Euripides. — there is something so touching in her despair^, 
and the passion of love is so powerfully pourtrayed by the 
author, that I had long viewed it as a master-piece. On 
this occasion, too, I prepared myself, by reading Phedra 
previously aloud to Mrs. Fox, who wished to hear me 
read it to her ; which precaution, to those who may here* 
after visit Paris, I recommend very strongly : if the ear is_ 
not very familiar with the language and declamation, some 
of the beauties may be lost, and the interest of the play be 
somewhat weakened. 

As I considered that I should see a classic performanc-e 
of Phedra, and that the French actors were assimilated to 
those of Greece, in passion and energy, my expectation was 
much raised, and I prepared myself with all my enthusi- 
asm for the Greek stage, for a lively exhibition of its beau- 
ties. Mr. Fox was a good deal amused, and not dis- 
pleased at this enthusiasm, i On this occasion, he was 
very soon recognised by the audience in the pit : every 
eye was fixed on him, and every tongue resounded Foxl 
Fox ! — The whole audience stood up, and the applause 
was universal. He, alone, to whom all this admiration 
was paid, was embarrassed. His friends were gratified 
by the honour bestowed on this great man,, by a foreign, 
and till lately hostile people. It was that reward which 
crowned heads cannot purchase— respect and gratitude 
from his fellow-men, for his exertions in favour of huma- 
nity, and an honourable peace. So unwilling was Mr. Fox 
to receive the applause as personal, that he could not be 
prevailed upon to stand forward ; nor when his name, re- 
peatedly pronounced, left no doubt of the matter, could he 
bring himself to make any obedience or gesture of thanks^. 
No man had ever less vanity, or rather was so totally de- 



139 

void of it as Mr. Fox, and, perhaps, through the genuine 
modesty of his nature, he seemed deficient, on this occa- 
sion, in respect to the audience. 

As the play proceeded, Phedra, the unfortunate and 
interesting Phedra, seized upon our attention. Made- 
moiselle Duschenois was in some parts very happy, and 
her dress was antique and correct. When she became 
overwhelmed wjth langour, sickness and love ; when she 
«ays, 

*Otez cesvakisornemens," 

her tone of despair and abandonment was inimitable | as 
also when raising her eyes with fixed melancholy, she 
exclaims, 

** Soleil, j€ te vois pour la derniere fois." 

Her scene with her nurse, when she struggles to conceal, 
yet wishes to tell, the name of him she in silence adored, 
—the burst of 

" C*est toi, qui Ta nommee," 

was most naturally uttered. 

The Phedra of Racine was a character much admired 
by Mr. Fox ; he conceived it an improvement, in many 
respects, upon that of Euripides, and we returned home, 
much gratified by this representation of it. The acting 
was very good, and it will be long ere memory yields up 
the varied impressions of that night. 

We saw the first consul in his box for the first time : 
the light was thrown from the stage upon his face, so as to 
give an unfavourable and ghastly effect. I could not 
judge well of his countenance. He was received with 
some applause, but much inferior to that bestowed on 
Mr. Fo3&. 



CHAPTER VIIL 



NO one could be in Paris, and not feel a powerful 
desire to view those productions of art and genius, the 
accumulated fruits of successful war. Shortly after our 
arrival, therefore, we hastened to the museum of pictures 
in the Louvre. Mr. Fox smiled as he entered, and seemed 
plainly to say, here are the fruits of conquest ! What an 
elevation has been given to France ! 

It was, in truth, stupendous ; and most wonderful to be* 
hold the immense gallery of the Louvre covered with the 
choicest paintings of Italy, Germany, Flanders, and Hol- 
land. It is quite impossible to conv<ey an idea of this 
magnificent sight. All nations have at times availed 
themselves of the opportunities afforded by conquest, to 
carry off rich spoils, and adorn their triumphs, their tem- 
ples, and their metropolis with them. The French, in 
this case, did but follow their example ; and it was, un- 
doubtedly, a stroke of good policy, to make Paris so rich 
in this respect, that opulent strangers might be attracted 
from all countries in times of peace. This stupendous 
collection of paintings, as well as of statues and busts, 
was thrown open to the public gratis *• many of the mean- 
est inhabitants of Paris, decently clad, were seen walking 



141 

about, and enjoying this wonderful display of art. Senti» 
nels, placed at the doors, admitted every body, and with 
that politeness, common to the French soldiery, and so 
very desirable at places of public exhibition, directed to 
the proper entrance all who applied for admittance. This 
liberality, worthy of a national exhibition, was a pleasing 
prelude to the magnificent sight, which instantly presented 
itself. The arrangement of the whole was formed with 
the greatest care, and no picture has been allowed to be 
placed in this collection, but such as had been approved 
of by a select committee. 

Mr. Fox manifested inexpressible pleasure on entering : 
here his fine taste, and perfect knowledge of paintings, had 
an ample field ; and he frequently afterwards repaired to 
the museum, at the Louvre, with increasing delight. la 
fact, the gallery was so long that, at first, the spectator was 
dazzled and overcome, and incapable of rightly enjoying 
the glorious view of such a multitude of the noblest pro- 
ductions in the world : it required time and repeated 
visits, to possess ones-self by degrees of all the innumera^ 
ble excellencies of this wonderful collection. I am sure 
that a six months' residence in Paris would not have been 
more than sufficient fon this purpose. The statues, which 
were excellently arranged in apartments below, were, if 
possible more interesting than the pictures. There we 
saw the productions of Greece and Rome ; the Belvidere 
Apollo breathing fire, and with a superhuman air, starting 
forward, and filling the mind with sacred awe ! the strug- 
gling Laocoon, agonized by paternal sorrow, and corporeal 
pain ! Demosthenes, Menander, Socrates; these, and 
many others, formed a still more interesting, though not so 
astonishing, an exhibition as that above : both are greatly 
calculated to improve and refine the public taste : the fre* 
quent viewing of them must sensibly operate even upon 
the most uninformed minds. Artists were permitted to 
study and copy, and every facility was afforded them in 
their pursuits. Paris at this time had drawn to it many, 
of England's eminent painters and amateurs. They., of 



142 

course, were often found at the Louvre, and the conversa- 
tions and remarks in such a scene were instructive and 
pleasing. 

I have heard Mr. Fox, in company with Mr. West/ 
and the lamented Mr. Opie, at different times, maintain 
animated discussions on the merits of the various painters 
of the Italian and Flemish schools. He was quite master 
of these subjects, and was much pleased with such discus- 
sions. On these occasions, he displayed great vivacity and 
judgment; and it was quite an agreeable, as well as novel 
thing, to hear the profound statesman and politician un- 
bend himself with men of genius : professed painters exa- 
mine every shade of error, every degree of excellency, and 
with all the poet's feeling, and the painter's judgment, de- 
cide upon them. This may be thought, however, the less 
surprising, if the strong connexion between the arts of 
poetry and painting be taken into the question. 

Mr. Fox's passionate love of the poets has already been 
noticed. He who has the soul of a poet, must feel strongly, 
and discriminate well, in regard to painting. I shall 
mention a few of the pictures most liked and studied by 
him. 

St. Roch in Prison. 
Virgin and Child Asleep. 
Colouring and Design. 
Saints Protectors of Boulogne. 
Paris and Hebe. 
Massacre of the Innocents. 
^ Head of Christ, — Guido, 
Martyrdom of St. Peter. — Titian* 
St. Jerome. 

St. Agnes. — Domenichino* 
Holy Family.— CcJrre'^zo. 
Transfiguration. — Raphaeh 
Pescent from the Cross. 



143 ' ^ 

Crucifixion. — Ruhens, ^ 

Le Defaite de Porus. — Le Brun* 
Attending the Sick. — Gerard Dow. 
St. Petronille. 
Cixc\xvac\sion**-^Guerchmo* 

Of the pictures which Mr. Fox most admired, his 
greatest favourite was the St. Jerome of Domenichino : 
nothing, indeed, can be more excellent. The old man, 
worn out and exhausted, is communicating for the last 
time, perhaps; his devotion is so pure and fervent, that, 
though his emaciated form seems scarce capably of retain- 
ing the fleeting breath of the venerable saint, yet this sab- 
ered religious rite reanimates him ', the trembling hand 
which is extended to receive the sacrament; the reviving 
look ; the adoration and hope in the countenance ; the 
effort to raise himself up, and the serene air of consola- 
tion, v/hich appears to have soothed every pang, and con- 
verted pain and sickness into placid joy, have the most 
happy effect possible. Often has Mr. Fox stood ad- 
miring this noble production; — often and often has he 
returned to view it, and again was I myself induced to 
consider how much, and in every way had this great man 
been misrepresented. He who had been held forth as de- 
void of principle, a revolutionist, and contemner of civil 
and religious establishments, was here, unaffectedly, be- 
stowing his warmest admiration upon the affecting repre- 
sentation of the celebration of the most sacred of christian 
rites. I myself felt some surprise, though without rea- 
son, unless that the impressions made upon the public in 
England to Mr. Fox's disadvantage, had imperceptibly 
taken possession of my mind, and that I had, unawares 
to myself, conceived that he was but very slightly tinc- 
tured with religious feeling. With the St. Jerome of Do- 
menichino, Mr. Fox was never wearied ; it was the ob- 
ject in the museum which most fixed him ; and, as I have 
beheld him frequently indifferent and unmoved, amidst 
the splendor and flattery of a courr^ and of crowds of per- 



144 



sons of rank, before this admirable picture, I ever saw him. 
filled with unfeigned rapture. It may be well imagined, that 
it was not the inimitable fidelity and exquisite representation 
of nature in the emaciated saint, so much as the expression 
and tone of the picture, which arrested the attention of 
such a mind as Mr. Fox's. With Mrs. Fox and myself 
he has often stood pointing out the beauties, and dwelling 
on the divine effect of the piece : his wish extended no 
farther than to communicate his sentiments, and awaken 
the observation of his domestic circle respecting the value 
of this interesting chef (Tcewore of art, and awful delinea- 
tion of a dying christian father of the primitive church. 
His powerful and unclouded intellect dwelt upon it with 
secret gratification, and in contemplating it, all thought of 
politics, of the ambition of kings, and elevation of generals, 
was totally lost. 

Nothing could be more genuine, too, than his admira- 
tion of paintings ; it was not the over-acted rapture of 
the connoisseur panting for reputation, but the warm and 
natural homage to genius and nature, which he paid to 
Raphael, Titian, Rubens, Guido, or Domenichino, as well 
as to Homer, Virgil, or Ariosta. 

Two days after our arrival in Paris, we went to see the 
palace of Versailles. This stupendous edifice stands a 
grand and indeed an awful monument of the ostentation of 
a haughty dynasty, secure of a long undisturbed sway for 
ages to come. We did not go into the palace, as it was 
stripped of its furniture, and this cumbrous pile seemed 
little to suit Mr. Fox's taste. A great profusion of orange 
trees were still in fine preservation in the gardens. The 
water works were out of order ; there was a dreary silence 
around, and nothing interesting in the scene. The pride 
of despotism had erected a mansion for its display of 
pomp : a galled and oppressed people had paid, with the 
fruit of their labour, for its erection ; here their haughty 
and unfeeling kings rioted, and forgetting the miseries of 



145 



their subjects, added to them by their selfish extravagance, 
and bestov/ed on profligate courtiers what would have 
made merit happy, and caused genius to expand and 
bloom ! There was nothing to regret. The vacuum which 
had taken place of royal revelry, and crowds of courtiers, 
was dull, but not distressing to the feelings. I did not 
wonder that Mr. Fox viewed the scene with indifference, 
and I felt no disappointment at our leaving it without ex- 
ploring the empty apartments of the palace. 

We went afterwards to the Petit Trianon, formerly a 
favourite residence, as a little country retreat of the unfor- 
tunate queen of Louis the 16th. It was now a tavern. 
The gilding and ornaments still decorated many of the 
rooms ; and the gardens, which were very pretty, and 
formed after the English manner, exhibited many vesti- 
ges of rural taste and elegance. Here the lovely and un- 
fortunate Maria Antoinette had often dressed as a shep- 
herdess, enjoyed, along with a private circle, in rural ha- 
bits, and exchanged the fatigues of royalty for innocent 
and humble amusements. Mr. and Mrs. Fox were much 
pleased with these gardens. There was great simplicity in 
them, and the interest excited by them was different indeed 
from the sensation at Versailles. The ruined cottage and 
grass-grown walk, where the queen had once passed her 
happiest hours, were mournful records of this charming 
and unfortunate woman's melancholy fall. 

A large party dined at the Petit Trianon this day, and 
walked through the gardens previous to dinner. General 
Fitzpatrick, the early and constant friend of Mr. Fox, in 
whom elegance and acumen of taste, polished and digni- 
fied manners, and unaffected goodness, were united : whose 
mind embraced the range of poetry and criticism, and 
whose attachment to liberty and Fox were rational, steady, 
and unchanged, was one of the company. Lord R. Spen« 
CER, another valuable and cherished friend of Mr. Fox, 
possessing the genuine dignity of the nobleman; accurate 



146 



in judgment, plain in manners, friendly in his deportment? 
saying at times but little, but always speaking with dis- 
crimination and good sense ; benignant and unassuming, 
he left to others the glare of words, and rested tranquilly 
upon his sincerity, and intrinsic value for that estimation 
he merited. Lord Holland, whose presence was always 
pleasing and grateful to Mr. Fox, and who enlivened so- 
ciety by playful and happy remarks, lady Holland, and 
other persons of distinction were there. 

I could have wished to have walked in these gardens 
alone, or that Mr. Fox's family only had been there ! The 
tone of melancholy which is generated by memorials, how- 
ever simple, of the misfortunes and departed happiness of 
others, does not agree with the gaiety of large parties | 
the respect due to calamity makes one wish to re- 
flect in silence; to wander with one or two through the 
abode of those whose long absence is marked by desola- 
tion and neglect. The feelings, the scene, and the com- 
pany, ought all to harmonize, where a strong association 
of ideas produces affecting recollections. I was glad to 
get a little apart from the brilliant party, who conversed 
beneath the fine trees, which sheltered them from a burn- 
ing sun. I felt inclined to look back on the hapless 
queen's past life with tender indulgence. This altered 
scene of playful mirth and tranquil enjoyment, inspired 
one with a favourable opinion of her mind ; she was not 
cruel, vindictive, or treacherous ; all the feelings of a fe- 
male, were in her alive and unperverted ; indulgence, and 
the luxury of a court, like that of France, spoiled, and 
enfeebled her mind ; but she who took pleasure in this 
charming and unostentatious retreat, and relished the 
adorning and improving a little spot, dedicated to peace 
and rural retirement, did not deserve to expiate common 
errors upon a scaffold, and to become a victim to a blood- 
thirsty party, for the misconduct of a pusillanimous king^ 
and profligate or inefficient ministers. 



147 



The party at Trianon was, however, a most agreeable 
one, and with it terminated the short time given to recre- 
ation and repose by Mr. Fox, previous to commencing 
his historical researches at the Bureau des Affaires 
Etrangeres. On the fourth day after his arrival in Paris, 
he commenced his labours. The worthy and respectable 
lord St. John, Mr. Adair, lately ambassador at Constanti- 
nople, closely attaching himself to Mr. Fox, and disposed 
to foreign and diplomatique researches, (a disposition 
which he subsequently displayed at Vienna, in a manner 
reflecting infinite credit on himself, and doing honour to 
Mr. Fox's appointment,) and myself, accompanied and 
regularly attended Mr. Fox to the French archives every 
day, from eleven to three. V 

Lord Holland, in the preface to his historical work, 
which is too extended for a preface, and too short for a 
memoir, has given but a faint idea of his assiduity and per- 
severance in this research. Relinquishing much of the 
gratifications of which his friends and countrymen v/ere 
daily partaking, leaving the various political characters 
in Paris to themselves, and denying himself much of that 
enjoyment of every thing exquisite and sublime in art, 
which everywhere was presenting itself; he devoted himself 
to his object with sincerity, and intense application. The 
letters of Barillon, we found abundantly entertaining. Mr. 
Fox had great anxiety to ascertain the extent of James 
the Second's meanness, in his transactions with the French 
court. When he came to the passage of Barillon's letter 
of the 26th February, 1685, where he tells of the gratitude 
of James, for the first advance of money made by Louis ; 
he could not restrain the expression of his indignation 
and contempt, which are strongly visible in his historic 
fragment. It is as follows ; — " le prince fut extremement 
surpris, et me dit, les larmes aux yeux, " II n'appar- 
tient qu'au roi, votre maitre, d'agir d'une maniere si noble, 
et si pleine de bonte pour moi : je vous avoue que je suis 
plus sensible a ce qu'il fait, en cela qu'a tout ce qui peut 



i4d 



arriver dans la suite de ma vie : car je vois clairement le 
fonds de son cceur et combien il a envie que mes affaires 
prosperent : il a ete au des besoins : je rie saurois jamais 
assez reconnoitre untel procede ; temoignez lui ma recon- 
noissance et soyez garant de I'attachment que j'aurai toute 
ma vie pour lui." 

The letters of Barillon contain curious and ample infor- 
mation relating to James's motives and intentions ; and I 
think, the noble editor of the fragment would have done 
well to affix a translation of them to it, as there are read- 
ers, either incompetent, or unwilling to go through them, 
who might derive benefit from them in an English 
dress. 

Mr. Fox, in his progress, was also much amused by 
the tone assumed by Louis, that he would not abandon 
James,— -that he approved of such and such things, though 
he felt no small disgust at the self degradation of an En- 
glish monarch, under an insolent and ambitious French 
court. He read and transcribed himself with alacrity, and 
good humour, and exacted no trouble from others, in which 
he did not himself fully participate. 

The politeness of the keeper of the archives was so 
great, that we had but to mention the year and the subject, 
and the volume was handed to us in rooms, solely appro- 
priated to Mr. Fox's use ; pens, ink, paper, and every 
orther accommodation, were afforded. This occupation of 
reading and transcribing, and of eliciting historic truths, 
he steadily pursued, with the liveliest interest, and unre- 
mitting attention for two months. 

In his subsequent progress, he was very desirous of 
ascertaining the points relative to James's receiving addi- 
tional sums, after his first and early remittances from France, 
through the hands of Barillon ; as the disingenuousness of 
Jamesj and the suspicious of Louis, operated in the affuirj 



149 



the investigation grew more difficult and more doubtful. 
James pressed for money, — Louis craftily withheld it; the 
French king desired to commit the English monarch com- 
pletely, that all his views, (and they were those of a des- 
potic master) might be observed. The abject and narrow 
minded James, thus degraded, through his hatred to liberty, 
feared to involve himself too far, without ample funds in pos- 
session. Their conduct resembled that of two sharpers, un- 
v/illing to trust one another. The one demanded previoes 
payment, the other desired to receive value before he ad- 
vanced any thing ; and both hesitated, as each endeavoured 
to gain the advantage over the other. It seemed that no° 
thing short of James declaring the catholic the established 
religion, and abstaining from all foreign treaties and alli- 
ances, would have satisfied Louis, and that, even then, he 
would have reserved his money if possible ; but thai; the 
wretched James was |not so devoid of penetration, as not 
to know that he risked his crown already by his measures, 
and tha^ to satisfy Louis, he must risk it infinitely more. 
For this, he pressed for money to secure himself, but 
Louis demurred. Happily for England, Louis greatly 
miscalculated and resisted all the intreaties of his ambas- 
sador, and all the prayers and remonstrancs of James. 

The letters of M. D'Avaux and M. Bonrepos, were 
examined also by Mr. Fox. What a disagreeable kind of 
subject that, of the combined dissimulation and frauds of 
the royal personages concerned, for such a mind as that 
of Mr. Fox ! He was in the end, wearied and disgusted by 
the examination of these papers, but the elucidation of truth 
consoled him, and the detection of the mistakes and false- 
hoods of historians, made him some compensation for his 
labours. 



CHAPTER IX, 



WHILE Mr. Fox was thus usefully and innocently 
employed in the national archives, he did not abstain from 
the amusements and society which Paris so richly afforded : 
but to these he gave his evenings. When the good, yet 
prejudiced, people of London (in consequence of old and 
not yet effaced calumnies), imagined that he was passing 
his days and evenings with French politicians and ministers, 
and plotting new ways to return to power, he was devoting 
his time to historical investigations in the morning, and to 
instructive society, or the rational or innocent amusements 
of Paris. 

To one of the latter we went, shortly after our arrival, 
it was called Tivoli, and was an illuminated garden, which 
seemed decked by the hands of fairies, and beautifully laid 
out. On entering, innumerable sports and entertainments 
struck the enchanted eye — ail was animation and elegance. 
On a large platform were country dancers and other per- 
sons performing^— here was a small piece of water, and a 
boat and oars, for the younger parties — there were little 
parties in bowers; with music and various refreshments 
everywhere — beauty and grace gave enchantment to the 
Scene, and the charming female figures, who glided about. 



151 

■r 

were dangerously fascinating. Vauxhall is excellent in its 
way ; but these French gardens combine all the fancied de- 
lights of oriental tales. The mind is lost in a perpetual 
circle of pleasures^ — it is here that age itself is exhilarated^ 
and applauds the lively dance and playful sports it can no 
longer enjoy. Here rank lays aside its pomp and ceremo- 
ny, pride forgets its haughtiness, and enraptured youth 
feels a thousand delicious sensations. The charm of a 
serene night, and dry and pure air, made every thing a- 
greeable. The whole concluded with splendid and beauti- 
ful fireworks. Such was Tivoli. 

To the different theatres we went constantly. Thes"^ 
are extremely numerous, and the acting in all of them is 
good. In comedy I thought the French actors quite in- 
imitable : there was in their playing the most easy and 
lively imitations of nature — every part was sustained nearly 
equally well — the dresses were correct, and the pieces 
played had often a great deal of merit. Eight or nine 
theatres, well supported, were a proof of the extraordinary 
genius of the people, and of their excessive fondness for 
this species of amusement. Mr. Fox enjoyed the French 
spectacle greatly, and I think did not differ much from me, 
when I perferred it to the English stage. In one respect, 
fiowever, he felt less pleasure at the public amusements 
than others did, as music gave him no great satisfaction : 
he did not appear to relish it much, and he himself has as- 
sured me, (and his mind was free from all disguise) that 
he derived no pleasure from it. Still this must be taken 
in a qualified sense, even from himself. He who could' 
so strongly taste the charms of poetry, could not be desti- 
tute of a musical ear; the harmony and melody of the 
poet's verses contribute, in a considerable degree, to the 
effects which they produce. No one felt more than Mr. 
Fox, the powers of Homer, Virgit, Pindar, Euripides, 
Ariosto, or Metastatig ; and I cannot separate from his ad* 
miration and enjoyment of these noble authors, a value for 
the harmony and the sonorousness of their verse. I can 



152 



well imagine that he did not feel delight at the modern 
refinements of music, where execution is substituted for 
expression, and the pathos of nature is abandoned for the 
wonders of art. In such a work as I have undertaken, 
when the minutiae, and lighter touches of character are no- 
ticed, and given to the public as interesting parts (however 
small) of the great whole, I could not omit, what appeared 
to me remarkable, and what cannot well be assented to, 
without explanation and allowance. 

Eight or nine days after our arrival, the door of one of 
the apartments of the hotel de Richelieu was thrown open, 
and a gentleman of small stature, and with nothing pre- 
possessing in his appearance, was shewn in. He came to 
wait on Mr. Fox ; and as numbers came daily to pay him 
their respects, I did not bestow much attention on the en- 
trance of this stranger. For some time I remained indif- 
ferent, and unobservant. It was Kosciusko ! — Spirit of 
departed and murdered freedom, why did not thy voice 
whisper in my ear, that thy favourite so«, a martyr to thy 
cause, was present ? — ■ — Kosciusko, thou wast the victim 
of surrounding despots ; yet, before thou wert overwhelm- 
ed, immured in a dungeon, and thy brave — thy patriotic 
— ^but unfortunate countrymen, sunk under the lawless 
hand of iron power— thou wert a star beaming upon the 
desert, thou gavest courage to an oppressed nation — and, 
disdaining all dangers — frowning upon all the threats and 
corruption of an imperial court, thou, Kosciusko ! endur- 
ed every privation ; — famine and want, and obscurity, were 
dear to thee — one thought pervaded thy virtuous and brave 
mind^ — one desire animated every action*— one hope light- 
ened upon thee in thy darksome and perilous path, the free- 
dom and emancipation of a beloved country !— It was 
v/ith greedy and unspeakable pleasure I beheld the cham- 
pion of Polish liberty. The figure which I had thought 
inconsequential — the countenance which I had thought un- 
interesting, became important. I listened to his words 
with attention, and beheld, with a feeling of delight, two 



IBS 

men, so eminently gifted, and so distinguished by their 
love of liberty, conversing with the sympathy and kindness 
one might expect from each towards the other. 

There is a wide difference between that involuntary 
homage paid to genius and patriotism, and the deference 
which is due to rank ; the one is a glowing sensation, full 
of admiration, regard, and sympathy ; the other is a thing 
exacted, which is conceded reluctantlyv.and, in general, in- 
sincerely. It was the former, certainly, which Kosciusko 
inspired. He did not speak much; his exterior and man- 
ner were extremely simple ; Mr. Fox's reception of him 
was warm and friendly : both these great men seemed 
happy at meeting, and, conscious as each of them was of 
having done all he could for his respective country, to 
calmly repose and taste the pleasure of personal inter- 
course, where there is high mutual esteem and regard. It 
was true Kosciusko's career of glory was extremely short, 
and that Mr. Fox distinguished himself, in a totally dif- 
ferent manner, and in the course of a long and brilliant 
series of political efforts ; their principles, however, were 
the same; the advocate of oppressed America, — of injur- 
ed Ireland,— -of the enslaved blacks, — could not but cherish 
the champion of the slaughtered Poles ; nor could that 
champion fail to honour a statesman who loved liberty, 
and who had so long laboured in its cause. 

Kosciusko was in apparent good health, though, I be- 
lieve, his wounds will never allow him to be perfectly well. 
The interview was not very long ; but how different was 
it from the meeting of potentates, prepared to deceive one 
another, or planning the disturbance of happy and inde- 
pendent nations. Not like Joseph and the remorseless 
Catherine, sacrificing to their ambition the peace and in- 
dependence of millions, but benignly breathing sentiments 
of good will for mankind, and bestowing on the sacred 
cause of liberty, their wishes, where they could not assist 
it; and their regrets where it was extinguished. I saw 

u 



154 

Kosciusko depart with a strong sentiment of profound ad- 
miration and sorrow ; he was now an obscure individual 
in France, little noticed, and cast back among the class of 
ordinary men, — not regarded by a new government rising 
upon the ruins of every thing republican, and felt himself 
alone among the brilliant crowd of opulent and thoughtless 
strangers, thronging to Paris, and full of gaiety and joy. 
Not so Kosciusko; his prostrate country filled all his 
thoughts ; the more so, as her fortunes were now irre- 
trievable* He was a melancholy sojourner in a land which 
could impart no joys to him, — he was the stricken deer, 
whose wound could never be healed. 

He was received, and entertained by Mr. Fox, with a 
cordiality mixed with melancholy. I have observed how 
much delicate attention he always paid to the unfortunate; 
and it may be easily understood, what were his manners, 
— the tone of his voice, — and his look, — ^towards Kos- 
ciusko! 

As Mr. Fox loved the country much, and, in so fine a 
season of the year, wished to let Mrs. Fox see it, we took 
advantage of the second Sunday after our arrival to drive 
to St. Cloud. The day was extremely fine, and the envi- 
rons of Paris are, in the direction of St. Cloud, very 
pleasant. I did not forget, as we approached the vicinity 
of Meudon, that Madame Roland, that illustrious victim 
of a sanguinary democracy, with a monster for its leader, 
had made it interesting, by celebrating it as the beloved 
spot where, in her youth, she had, along with her family, 
passed so many Sundays in rural and happy retirement. I 
had long admired her character and heroic conduct, and 
was gratified to find that Mr. Fox estimated both highly. 
He told me, that he sat up nearly a whole night at Mr. 
Coke's, reading her work, when it first appeared ; and, by 
such a sanction^ I felt my own opinion much fortified. 
Meudon, as we passed, looked wild, yet beautiful. Soon 



155 

after we got to Bellevue, a beautifully situated, but now 
desolate, royal chateau, built by Louis the XVth, for Ma- 
dame de Pompadour, and subsequently possessed by the 
late king's sisters. Its situation on the Seine is very pleas- 
ing ; that river, whose pellucid and blue waters adorn 
Paris so much, is here increased to a respectable size, and 
flows majestically along. Bellevue was quite deserted : the 
hall, where music and gay sounds were heard, when the 
royal banquets were held there, was silent and joyless; 
the sound of the feet of our little party resounded in a 
melancholy way. It was a cheerless scene : for whether 
we considered the profligate extravagancy of Louis the 
XVth, in squandering the revenues upon his own gratifi- 
cations, or satisfying the pride of luxurious mistresses ; 
or that we simply dwelt upon the overthrow of royalty, 
and the distruction or desolation of its palaces ; or that 
we thought of the last possessors, the amiable and re- 
spectable sisters of Louis XVIth;. — we saw a heart-chill- 
ing change ; the walls naked, the rooms unfurnished, and 
the court yard overgrown with grass ; a general appear- 
ance of decay, yet the gardens still beautiful, and well 
deserving to be put in order ; these mournful memorials 
of better days, naturally inspired gloomy sensations. 

We hastened from hence to St. Cloud. This beautiful 
chateau is delightfully situated. A very fine wood, and a 
commanding aspect, distinguish it from every thing be- 
sides near Paris. The Seine winds slowly below. The vil- 
lage of St. Cloud makes a respectable appearance at the 
foot of the hill, and the bridge has a handsome efi'ect, as 
the Seine is broad and majestic here, and partakes much 
of the character of the Thames at Richmond. The cha- 
teau of St. Cloud had been taken from the duke of Or- 
leans in the reign of Louis the 16th, by the court, andl 
do not wonder that his resentment was great, as it is a 
most charming residence, and quite unrivalled around 
Paris. 



156 

Leaving St. Cioud, we took a boat as far Neuilly, and 
found most of the environs and banks of the river delight- 
ful. Mr. Fox fully enjoyed the scene: he was fond of the 
water, and perhaps he was reminded of the scenes near 
his own beloved spot. The evening was serene ; the water 
a glossy surface, over which we glided ; and as we left 
behind the proud, and towering walls of St. Cloud, and 
Its lofty woods, we turned to the more pleasing contempla- 
tion of rural cottages, and small country houses, of an. 
enchanting appearance on the banks of the river. Happy 
little domestic parties were scattered here and there-— the 
setting sun, threw a golden glow upon the water, and a 
rich and softened light upon the landscape. Gliding softly 
along no wish was felt by our little circle, for the pompous 
sights of St. Cloud or Paris.- 

It was in such moments that Mr. Fox was truly him- 
self. Mrs. Fox's society, and that of one or two friends, 
whom it was not necessary to entertain, and find conver- 
sation for, satisfied him : and in the manner of that excel- 
lent judge of society, Horace, he required but a few^ 
whom he liked, and rural and tranquil scenes, to make 
him quite happy ; like him he was ever ready to exclaim 
to the admirers of the city, or the follower of courts ; 



-Ego laudo rurls am qui 



Rivos, et musco circumlite saxa, nemusque 
Quid qiiseris? Vivo et regno simul ista reliqul 
Quae vos ad cceliim efFertis rumore sccundo." 

Easy and instructive conversation made these happy 
moments fly but too swiftly. 

The shadows of evening began to fall before we reach- 
ed Neuilly ; but all was placid, and the objects around 
presented themselves with new interest : the little vine- 
yards were lost in shade— -the water lost its splendor, but- 
was still more beautiful, and this delicious repose of even- 
ing, made us grieve when our boat stopped, and it became 
K,GCessary to disembark. 



157 

The carriage was waiting for us at Neuilly : as we 
drove through the Bois de Boulogne, we left on one side, 
at a considerable distance, Bagatelle, once the elegant 
seat of the ci-devant compte D'Artois. It was now ne- 
glected, and adapted to some common purpose. Another 
vestige of fallen grandeur, but of little interest. 

On returning to Paris, we went to the opera Francois. 
In this species of amusement, the French, in my opinion, 
completely fail. Their music is uninteresting and noisy, 
but the soul- touching expression, which the Italian opera 
so delightfully attains, is, at the French opera, a thing un- 
known. Whether French perceptions are ill-adapted to vocal 
music, or that the disposition of the people, turning to gai- 
ety, prevents their musicians from aiming at that pathos, 
which at once softens and charms the mind, I cannot de- 
cide, but the French opera seemed to me so insipid, not to 
say disagreeable, that I had no wish to return it. 

The following day, after the usual occupation at the 
archives, I was glad to go to the palace of the Thuilleries 
with Mr. and Mrs. Fox, Mr. West, and Mr. Opie. In 
front are still to be seen, the marks of cannon balls : the 
memorable night between the 9th and 10th of August, 1 792, 
was thus vividly recalled to the memory. Could one enter 
this palace without shuddering f and could one avoid ac- 
knowledging that, after such and greater, and continued 
horrors, the French, with some reason, have naturally ac- 
quiesced under a government, which, though falling short 
of their early and fond expectations, affords them security 
against internal commotions, and protects their properties 
aud lives against the caprice of an ignorant populace. 

The lower apartments of the Thuilleries were not at all 
altered since the time of Louis the Sixteenth and his queen t 
the same furniture, and ornaments, still remained. Among 
other things we perceived there two busts, one of Fox, 
and the other of Nelson. Whether these were placed there 



158 

as a compliment to the English, or that the bust of the 
former had not been removed since the days of Louis 
himself, and that the latter had been since added, I cannot 
say, but the circumstance was curious and interesting. 

Our walk through the royal apartments was productive 
of strange sensations. This sensible proof of the annihi- 
lation of a powerful and long-established dynasty, scarcely 
sufficed to convince us of the stupendous change which 
had taken place. Mr. Fox ruminated with pain upon the 
fallen fortunes and wretchedness of the last of the BoUr- 
bons, and the whole party, I believe, felt relieved on quit- 
tuig those once royal, but now deserted abodes. 



CHAPTER X. 



MR. FOX haa now been twelve days in Paris, and 
we had not seen Bonaparte, except slightly and imper- 
fectly at the theatre. My own wish to behold the first 
consul had not been increased since my arrival. The ob- 
servation of military guards everywhere, the information 
that the numbers of barracks in and about Paris were very 
great, that 20,000 troops were within a short summons; 
and above all, a knowledge that the system of espionage 
was carried to an incredible height, making suspicion of the 
slightest indisposition to government sufficient cause for 
individuals to be hurried away at night, — (many of them 
never to be heard of again) had not contributed, by any 
means, to exalt my opinion of the new government. At 
this time I even doubted whether an Englishman, a true 
lover of liberty, ought to sanction thejA^W order of things. 
As I have already alluded to t|rcfse views, I shall 
only say, that Mr. Fox's determitiation to go to the ap- 
proaching levee, threw new light upon my mind, and I 
was brought to consider the case dispassionately. Was 
an English gentleman or nobleman, travelling for instruc- 
tion and pleasure, to be the reformer and censor of Eu- 
rope ? at Petersburgh to reprimand Alexander, or shun his 
court ? — at Constantinople to insult the grand signior, and 
rudely reject the society of his ministers ? No ! I said t© 



160 



myself, prejudiced and pensioned followers of mlmstry may 
affect to think in this way, but the eoitghtened stranger will, 
in all countries, respect the existing government, conform 
to its usages and ceremonies, and frequent its court, as the 
focus of all the rank, talent, and character of the country.— 
where the best manners are to be met with, and superior 
intelligence is to be collected ! 

We now heard a great deal of the approaching levee ; 
it was expected to be unusually splendid, and the English 
ambassador, Mr. Merry, was overwhelmed with applica- 
tions of gentlemen, from England and Ireland, to prevail 
upon him to present them to Bonaparte, on this, his new 
and permanent accession to power. So numerous were 
these applications, that he was compelled to shelter him- 
self under the rule, that a letter from lord Hawkesbury 
must be handed to him, introducing each person. Mr. 
Fox had been so thoughtful and kind, as to have me, as 
well as lord St. John, included in his own letter, so that 
I had no disappointment to fear. Mr. Merry, the British 
ambassador, was a good-natured and friendly man, but 
unequal to trying and delicate emergencies ; he seemed 
to me bending under his situation, not enjoying the extra-* 
ordinary scene ;►— without sufficient dignity for his station, 
and rather an honest gentleman popped into a diploma- 
tique situation, than the ambassador of a great and com- 
manding nation. I had subsequent reason, in Mr. Fox's 
ministry, to observe, that Mr. Pitt's long ministry had 
been ill supplied with men of talents in foreign courts. 

Previous to this levee, Mr. Fox went with a small party 
to see the chateau of St. Cloud. It was also the day of 
the fete at the village, and we proposed dining at one of 
the restorateur's houses, which look^down upon the river. 
Mr. and Mrs. Fox, two or three more. Monsieur De 
Grave, and myself, formed the party. The day was ex- 
tremely fine, and we set out with great pleasure upon the 
little excursion, omitting, for this one day, the labours at 



161 

the archives, and leavhig James II. and Louis XIV. to 
rest unmolested and uncriticised. Monsieur de Grave 
was a very polite and unassuming companion; he had 
been minister in the early republican times for a short time^ 
but was unequal to the fatigues of office. Whoever has 
read Madame Roland's works, will find his genuine charac- 
ter there. It was but too faithfully drawn ; frequently 
when I recognised the fidelity of the portrait, I was be- 
trayed into a smile, and trembled lest it might rise to ^ 
laugh. Madame Roland described M. de Grave as a 
good-natured little man, unfit for an arduous situation, 
' — rolling his large blue eyes, and falling asleep over his 
coffee. He was however, extremely obliging, and, as we 
were disappointed in seeing the interior of the chateau, 
his chagrin was very great and undisguised. 

Mr. Fox consoled us with a sort of playful humour,' 
that was very diverting, and at the same time perfectly 
good-natured. I do not recollect, indeed, any occasion 
when he was more animated than this evening. The 
scene before us was quite delightful; the Seine glided 
calmly past; the people, assembled for the fete, were 
walking about, sitting in groupes, conversing, or dining- 
on the grass — music enlivened all — parties, as the day 
advanced, were dancing under the trees — gaiety and ele- 
gance pervaded them — no vile intoxication disgraced the 
happy assemblage — they were joyous, but not riotous, 
— cheerful, but not noisy — animated, but everywhera 
maintained decency and good manners. — Mr. Fox, to di- 
minish M. de Grave's vexation, talked more than usuaL 

He spoke, with excellent discrimination, of the noble 
families he had known long previous to the revolution; 
the folly and absurd pride of some, he treated in the hap- 
piest manner ; the admirable characters of others, female 
as well as male, and their genius and acquirements, he 
dwelt upon with unqualified admiration. He strove to 
lead M. de Grave from his uneasine.ss in the most en- 



1&2 

gaging mann'er, (for M. de Grave had engaged to procure 
us admission to the chateau.) It was something of Cicero 
in the de Oratore, dwelling upon illustrious departed cha- 
racters, illustrious as well by birth as eloquence, virtue, and 
accomplishments. The destruction of the old governmentj 
the death, emigration, or distress of many of these noble per« 
sons, a complete substitution, not only of new government, 
but change of property and honours, making this eloquent 
retrospective view still more interesting. The great cha- 
racter himself, who was taking it, worthy of antiquity, 
and speaking from his own knowledge, with an animation 
in which affection, veneration, and gratitude, were all 
blended, and all powerfully and visibly operating. As 
we sat at our fruit, before we arose to depart, the door open- 
ed, and a Savoyarde, dressed in the fashion of the peasants 
of her country, and carrying a guitar or lute, presented 
herself. Her air was almost sublime ; the countenance 
betokened better days and higher station ; but resignation 
chastened every feeling, and religion had sustained and 
aided her; her song was simple and affecting, and her 
music far from contemptible; the faultering voice told 
better than volumes, that she was unhappy. She was 
satisfied with a little, and withdrew with modesty and in 
silence. 

Before we left St. Cloud, we walked in the park among 
the happy groupes, and left this charming place, as it grew 
late, with a wish to revisit it often. Indeed, I ever ob- 
served that Mr. Fox was most pleased in such evenings 
as these. Unencumbered with ceremony, and relieved 
from crowds, his amiable and domestic character expand- 
ed itself; and, undesirous as he was of flattery, hating sub- 
serviency, and abominating affectation or hypocrisy of any 
kind, I think he sought all opportunities of consoling him- 
self for the insincerity and baseness of worldly-minded 
people, by forming a society of two or three, (of which 
Mrs. Fox was ever one) on whose ingenuousness and 
friendship he could rely, and before whom he c&uld relax 



163 



snd display the whole simplicity and genuine feeling of his 
mind. It was then he became animated ; nor was he un- 
willing to bear a full share in the conversation, and to 
prolong it through the evening. 

*' iEstivam sermoae benigno tendere noctem.'" 

We closed the month of August (having dined there the 
31st) at St. Cloud; in the republican style it was the 13th 
Fructidor. 

All this time, and for about a week afterwards, the 
heat was extreme. Mr. Fox often found it necessary to 
have a carriage, (otherwise he preferred walking) to go to 
the Bureau des affaires Etrangeres, The streets of Paris 
were intolerably hot, and we frequently found it an op- 
pressive and fatiguing walk, though the distance was not 
great from the Hotel de Richelieu to the place where the 
archives were deposited. Mr. Fox, however, allowed 
nothing to interfere with, or prevent his pursuit. 

On the day previous to the great levee, we went to see 
the house of general Marat, since king of Naples. No- 
thing could be more superb. The apartments were beau- 
tifully and sumptuously fitted up. The grand staircase 
was very noble — the bedchamber extremely elegant and 
rich — and one circular room, particularly, was deserving 
of attention. It was lighted from the top — a great num- 
ber of beautiful white marble statues were placed in niches, 
holding branches for lights, and the intervening recesses 
furnished with silk, and containing small couches, had an 
excellent effect. There was so much symmetry and beauty 
in this room, that I was much struck with it. 

In the evening a new scene opened to me; and when I 
announce to my reader M. Talleyrand, minister for foreign 
affairs, to whose country house at Neuilly, I was carried, 
alon^ with Mr. and Mrs. Fox^ they will participate in the 



164 

curiosity I felt. We arrived between eight and nine in 
the evening, as it was usual to open the house every even- 
ing at that time for all the corps diplomatique and strangers 
of distinction. I was now about to see somewhat of the 
French government, in seeing the minister of foreign 
affairs, and his establishment. On our arrival we were 
ushered through a long suite of rooms' and announced to 
Madame, who, at the head of her drawing-room and of a 
numerous circle of ladies and gentlemen, received each 
visitor that paid his respects to her. Many of the foreign 
•ministers, and other characters of rank were present. 
Mr. Fox was received with great politeness and marked 
attention. 

M, Talleyrand possesses by no means an agreeable ex- 
terior; there is a want of what is noble and elevated in 
his air and countenance. It is evident, however, that he 
possesses great acuteness and pliability. I am so far a 
bigot in the science of physiognomy, as to doubt the excel- 
lency of a character, where the countenance repels, or at 
least inspires no favourable idea- — where the eye does not 
speak the language of feeling, and where the air and car- 
riage of the person is ungraceful or mean. M. Talley- 
rand appeared to me, however, to be a complete man of 
business ; alert, indefatigable, and completely conversant 
in the ways of men. 

Madame v/as possessed of genuine politeness ; and 
although her situation inspired something of hauteur, yet 
there was a sweetness of disposition to be discerned 
through it, which was very engaging. This lady, now the 
princess de Benevento, I think, possessed a superior mind, 
v/hich felt disgust at, and saw, with quickness, the mean- 
ness of the servile crowd, who would be equally ready, in 
the hour of misfortune, to calumniate and vilify, as they 
were now to flatter, those elevated characters, whom they 
paid their homage to» 



165 



The circle at M. Talle3^ran4.'s, in the evening, was at 
first agreeable and entertaining. The variety of character 
was great and striking ; the Italian princess — the German 
dutchess or prince — members of the ancient French nobi- 
lity — strangers, of rank and talent — literary characters-— 
ambassadors— their secretaries or friends^— members of 
government, senators, &c. &:c.— The poet and the philo- 
sopher mingled in the crowd, yet all was conducted with 
elegance and attention. Here Mr. Fox met various dis- 
tinguished men, and conversed v/ith every one with ease 
and vivacity. The house at Neuilly was large and hand- 
some; the distance from Paris, five miles. It was, how- 
ever much more agreeable at this season of the year, and 
in extremely hot weather, to drive out to the evening circle, 
than remain in town. After some hours, (except a select 
few invited to a supper) the company dispersed. 

The establishment of the minister for foreign affairs 
was on the most liberal scale : he was allowed 10,000 per 
annum to enable him to keep a handsome table, and receive 
his guests in a manner v/orthy of the splendour of the 
rising government. A liberal and wise plan, it must be 
admitted, for the minister who is obliged to maintain the 
dignity, and, in some measure, represent the consequence 
of his covmtry and its government with foreigners, requires 
liberal funds to enable him to do so, greater than those of 
other ministers, inasmuch as he is called upon (and it may 
be politically useful and requisite) to entertain foreigners 
of every description. 

Shortly after our arrival in Paris, distressing accounts 
(distressing to lovers of liberty) were daily brought from 
Switzerland. That country, once the invincible asylum of 
liberty, whose confederate warriors, resisting the tyranny 
of Austria, had transmitted independence and happiness to 
their posterity — that country was now suffering the hor- 
rors of military oppression. Reding, the intrepid leader 
of the Swiss, animated them against the French. As we 



166 

heard, tl)e very women and children were roused, and 
symptoms of a sanguinary contest were daily announced. 
Those English patriots who were amongst Mr. Fox's 
friends, and Mr. Fox himself, heard these reports with 
deep regret. That it was fruitless, and unavailing, I need 
not say. The struggle soon after ceased, and the brave 
Swiss, perceiving resistance to be little short of madness, 
sullenly rested their arms and capitulated. We were thus 
destined almost to be witnesses of one of the last perni- 
cious consequences of the coalition war against France, 
She had gained the Netherlands as an integral part of her 
dominions, the Rhine as a boundary for a great extent, 
and she was now seizing upon Switzerland as an outwork 
and fortification for her empire. For this important ob- 
ject, it was very unlikely that regard for the feelings, or 
respect for the liberties of the Swiss, would at all stand 
in the way of the French government. Nor did it at this 
time act very differently from regular established govern- 
ments, whose tone and principles it seemed to be fast as- 
suming. The aristocracies of Switzerland had themselves 
been guilty of so much oppression and cruelty, that the 
people had not so much to lose as has been represented ; 
and it is more than probable that in the early subjugation 
of the country in 1797, by the French, if these corrupt 
and haughty governments had been purified and reformed, 
and more valuable objects held forth to incite the people, 
that Switzerland might have defied the attacks of France, 
and proved a dangerous, or at least a formidable enemy to 
her; always interposing strong positions between her and 
other countries, capable of being used against her, and re- 
maining constantly in the nature of a check upon her. But 
the aristocratical governments had long disgusted and 
alienated the people; and the country not feeling the same 
stimulus which warmed them against Austria in 1300, fell 
an easy prey to French ambition. Accordingly, the senate 
of Bern, in 1802, sanctioned all the measures of Bona» 
parte ; joined with his government against their own 
people ; and, at last, conspired with France in stifling the 
last struggling sigh for liberty. 



CHAPTER XIL 



AS we visited the museum as often as time could be 
•spared to it, I recollect one day, that all the company were 
attracted to the windows of the gallery of the Louvre, by a 
parade in the Place de Carousel. The guards, and some 
other French troops were exercising. Mr. Fox, with 
the others, went to the window, but he instantly turned 
away on seeing the soldiers. This occurred some time 
before the levee : and on that day, as there was a grand 
parade, we remained in a private apartment of the Thuil- 
leries till it was over. Bonaparte, mounted on a white 
charger, and accompanied by some general officers, re- 
viewed his troops, amounting to about six thousand, with 
great rapidity. The consular troops made a fine appear- 
ance, and the whole was a brilliant and animating spec- 
tacle. Mr. Fox paid little or no attention to it, conversing 
chiefly, while it lasted, with count MarkofF, the Russian 
ambassador. I observed Mr. Fox was disinclined not 
only to military, but to any pompous display of the power 
of the French government. An enemy to all ostentation, 
he disliked it everywhere ; but the parade of military 
troops in the heart of the metropolis, carrying with it 
more than vain pomp, must naturally have shocked, rather 
than entertained, such principles as those of Mr. Fox. 



168 



On the day of the great levee, which was to collect s© 
many representatives of nations, and noble strangers from 
every country to pay their respects to the first consul of 
France, now established as the sole head of government 
for life, several apartments, having the general name of the 
Salle des Ainbassadeurs^ were appropriated for the crowd 
of visitors at the levee, previous to their being admitted to 
the first consul's presence. Lord Holland, lord Robert 
Spencer, lord St. John, Mr. Adair, and myself, accompa- 
nied Mr. Fox there. I must acknowledge that the novel 
and imposing scene amused and interested me in a high 
degree. This grand masquerade of human life, was in- 
conceivably striking — the occasion of assembling — the old 
palace of the Bourbons — the astonishing attitude that 
France had assumed, affected the imagination, and almost 
overpowered the judgment. A latent smile v/as often to 
be caught on the countenances of different intelligent and 
enlightened men ; it said, very significantly, can this be 
reality t can so wonderful a fabric be permanent ? 

His toils were now approaching ; there was a much 
greater number of English presented than of any other 
nation. Mr. Merry, the English ambassador, appeared, 
on the part of the British government, to sanction and re- 
cognise the rank and government of the first consul ! Mr. 
Merry, whose nation had, under the blind auspices of an in- 
temperate minister, fatally interfered with the internal con- 
cerns of a great people, and had vainly attempted to coun- 
teract the success of their efforts. What a subject had he 
for a letter, in the style of Barillon, for the perusal of 
Mr. Pitt, or his friend, Mr. Addington, then acting as 
Pitt's deputy, or locum tenens, in the government ! Mr. 
Merry ! — then acting under lord Hawkesbury, the Quix- 
otic marcher to Paris, which same lord was now receiving 
a magnificent present of a service of china of unrivalled 
beauty and elegance, from this same new government and 
Bonaparte. It would have been an instructive lesson lor 
Mr. Pitt himself, could he invisibly, with Minerva b}- 



16^ 

Ms side, have contemplated the scene j he might then have 
studied history, and discovered that such interference and 
conduct in foreign powers, as that of his and the allied 
potentates, had made Cromwell a king, or an emperor, 
and fixed the succession in his family ! 

" What think you of all this ?" said the chevalier d'' 
AzARA, ambassador from Spain, addressing himself to 
Mr. Fox. The other gave an expressive smile-—" It is 
an astonishing time,'* continued he ; " pictures — statues— 
I hear the Venus de Medicis is on her way— -what shall we 
see next ?" A pleasant dialogue ensued : these enlighten- 
ed statesmen diverting themselves, when scolding and an- 
ger could avail nothing. The Turkish ambassador 
graced the splendid scene ; a diminutive figure, accom- 
panied by a suite of fine and handsome men ; — ^he reposed 
on a sofa — the heat was excessive, and his crossed-legged 
attitude but little relieved him ,* — his companions spoke 
French with great ease, and some of them were fine Gre- 
cian figures. 

Count Markoff ! covered with diamonds — of a most 
forbidding aspect — of sound sense, however — malgre a 
face no lady would fall in love with — 'and an ungraceful 
air — The marquis Lucchesini ! the king of Prussia's am- 
bassador, who, from an obscure situation, by having be- 
come the reader to a minister, was elevated to the corps 
diplomatique — gaudily dressed — always with several con- 
spicuous colours— -one thought of a foreign bird, on seeing 
him ; and his physiognomy corrobated the idea< — agreeable, 
however, pleasing in manners, easy in his temper, and en= 
joying rationally the amusing scenes around him. 

The marquis DE Gallo ! the Neapolitan ambassador— 
an unmeaning nobleman of the old school — florid in man- 
ner, but not calculated to produce effect in politics or con- 
versation. — Have I forgotten the count Cobenzel !— that 
sage and venerable negotiator was there. A small, emacia- 

Y 



170 

ted figure,— pale, and worn out with the intrigues of courts^ 
he seemed to have been reserved to witness the scene be- 
fore us, as a refutation of all his axioms and systems* 
With excellent good sense, he took all in good part- — he 
was too wise to betray dissatisfaction, and too politic not 
to bend to the gale. The American ambassador, Mr. 
Livingston, plain and simple in manners and dress- 
representing his republic with propriety and dignity.—- 
Of these, I believe, M.d'Azara, held the first rank for in- 
tellect ; he had all the appearance of a man of genius — • 
he seemed very much to enjoy the society of Mr, Fox— - 
he and the count Cobenzel are both since dead, as, no 
doubt, are many other of the actors in the grand drama of 
that day. 

The illustrious statesman of England, who that day at- 
tracted every eye, is himself withdrawn also from mortal 
scenes ! 

A number of English noblemen and gentlemen— many 
Russians— -Swedish officers, with the white scarf on their 
arm, also crowded the rooms. The cardinal Caprara ! 
representing his holiness the pope, with his scarlet stock- 
ings and cap, was to me a novel sight— ~he was a polite and 
dignified ecclesiastic, and, but that I was imbued a little 
with the prejudices of English historians and other authors, 
I should have found nothing extraordinary in the respecta- 
ble cardinal.^ I am now ashamed that I did» 

This grand assemblage were detained a considerable^ 
time, in the Salle des ambassadeurs^ during which several 
servants, in splendid laced liveries, handed round cofifee, 
chocolate, the richest and finest wines, and cake, upon 
China, bearing the initial B. without any armorial, royal, 
or established marks of power. The heat was excessive^ 
and expectation, wearied with the pause, began to droop, 
when the door opened, and the prefet du Palais announ- 
ced to the cardinal CaprarAj that the first consul was 



171 

ready; he afterwards called upon M.d'AzARA — upon which 
every one followed, without regular order or distinctioB 
of rank. As we ascended the great staircase of the Thu- 
illeries, between files of musketeers, what a sentiment was 
excited ! 

As the assumption of the consulship for life was a de- 
cisive step, tending not only to exclude every branch of 
the old dynasty, but to erect a new one, every sensible 
man considered this day as the epoch of a new and regular 
government, Bonaparte was virtually king henceforth. 
As we passed through the lofty state rooms of the former 
kings of France, still hung with the ancient tapestry, very 
little, if at all, altered — the instability of human gran- 
deur was recalled to the mind more forcibly than it had yet 
been. The long line of the Bourbons started to the view ! 
I breathed with difficulty ' Volumes of history were re- 
viewed in a glance. Monarchs ! risen from the moulder- 
ing tomb, where is your royal race ? The last who held 
the sceptre dyed the scaffold with his blood, and sleeps for- 
gotten and unknown, without tomb, or memorial of his 

name ! Rapid was the transition succeeding ! We 

reached the interior apartment, where Bonaparte, first 
consul, surrounded by his generals, ministers, senators, 
and officers, stood between the second and third consuls, 
Le Brun and Cambaceres, in the centre of a semicircle, 
at the head of the room ! The numerous assemblage from 
Salle des Amhassadeurs^ formed into another semicircle, 
joined themselves to that at the head of which stood the 
first consul. 

Bonaparte, of a small, and by no means commanding 
figure, dressed plainly, though richly in the embroidered 
consular coat — without powder in his hair, looked, at the 
first view, like a private gentleman, indifferent as to dress, 
and devoid of all haughtiness in his air. The two consuls, 
large and heavy men, seemed pillars too cumbrous to sup- 
port themselves, and, during the levee, were sadly at a loss 



172 

what to do,— whether the snufF-box or pocket handkerchief 
was to be appealed to, or the left leg exchanged for the 
right. 

The moment the circle was formed, Bonaparte began " 
with the Spanish ambassador, then went to the American, 
with whom he spoke some time, and so on, performing his 
part with ease, and \^ery agreeably: until he came to the 
English ambassador, who, after the presentation of some 
English noblemen, announced to him Mr. Fox ! He was 
a good deal flurried, and after indicating considerable 
emotion, very rapidly said-—" Ah ! Mr, Fox I — / have 
heard with pleasure of your arrival- — / have desired much 
to see you^^I have long admired in you the orator 
and friend of his country, who^ in constantly reusing- his 
voice for peace^ consulted that country* s best interests—-' 
those of Europe-^and of the human race. The two great 
nations of Europe require peace; they have nothing to fear; 
they ought to understand and value one another. In you^ 
Mr. Fox^ I see with much satisfaction^ that great statesman 
who recommended peace^ because there was no just object of 
war; who saw Europe desolated to no purpose^ and zuho 
struggled for its relief J^ 

Mr. Fox said little, or rather nothing, in reply— -to a 
complimentary address to himself, he always found invin- 
cible repugnance to answer ; nor did he bestow one word 
of admiration, or applause upon the extraordinary and ele- 
vated character who addressed him. A few questions and 
answers relative to Mr. Fox's tour, terminated the inter- 
view. 

Amongst the distinguished English presented to Bona- 
parte on that day, was Mr. now lord Erskine. I am 
tempted to think that he felt some disappointment at not 
being recognised by the first consul ; there was some dif- 
fieidty at first, as lord Erskine was understood to speak 
little French. M. Talleyrand's impatient whisper to me, I 



173 

fancy, I yet hear, *^ Farle-t-il Frajicois^ Farie-t-il Fran- 
cois," Mr. Merry, already fatigued with his presentations, ' 
and dreading a host to come, imperfectly designated lord 
Erskine, when the killing question followed, " Etes vous 
legiste^^ was pronounced by Bonaparte with great indiffer- 
ence, or, at least, without any marked attention.* 

Lord Erskine, truly great as he is in England, was, 
however, himself deceived, if he imagined that his well- 
earned reputation had extended into foreign nations. The 
province of the advocate is to defend the equivocal cause 
of a client. This, necessarily, creates a confined and tech- 
nical species of oratory. The municipal laws of one na- 
tion do not concern, or interest another. A lawyer from 
Vienna or Petersburgh, however eminent at home, would 
be unknown and unnoticed at the British court. It is only, 
and this rarely happens, when the lawyer, greatly rising 
into the philosopher, statesman, and senator, displays new 
and more general abilities, that he ranks with the great 
men of other nations. The lawyer's habits, and pursuits 
are, beside, adverse to the formation and expansion of 
greatness of character; his investigations are too micros- 
copic ; his subjects of study too low and jejune ; his ac- 
cumulations of wealth are too grovelling ; and the restric- 
tions placed upon the efforts of his genius, by the narrow 
spirit, the prejudice, or the envy of judges, disqualify him 
for bold and liberal exertions. 

Another question, asked by Bonaparte, when a young 
English officer, handsomely dressed, belonging to some 

* One would almost fancy that Bonaparte had imbibed from the air of the 
Thuilleries, Louis the Fom^teenth's disrespect for, and dislike oilaivyers. Whe- 
ther the distinction between " legiste'^ and "jurisconsiilte'^ is an important one, 
whether the former or the latter is the more dignified, 1 cannot say, but Louis's 
words to his ambassador, Barillon, are not very flattering to the self-importance 
of that pi'ofession : liis majesty writes : 

*' Je n'ai rien a vous dire sur le choix que le roy d'Angletere a fait du che- 
valier Trumbal pour reraplir la place du sieur Preston : mais ii me paroii que 
laj qualite dejtirisconsiilte Anq-loisy n*est pas la plus convenable pour main- 
tenir la bonne intelligence entre moi et la roy d' Angleterre, et qu'elle ne sert 
souvent qu'a trouver des difficultes, on il u'y eu doit point avoir." 



174 



English militia regiment, was presented to him, without 
any announcement, or key to his rank and quality, — qu'a-t 
il fait f Was a lesson : and if the commander in chief 
established this qi^a-t ilfait ? as a test of merit, and gave 
promotion according to the answer, he would obtain the 
thanks of the nation. The ceremony was not long. 

Bonaparte went round the circle a second time, ad- 
dressing a few words here and there, without form, and 
finally placing himself between the two consuls, he bowed 
slightly, but expressively, when the company withdrew. 

It would be superfluous to speak much of a matter so 
well known or so long canvassed. I shall mention a few 
ideas only which occurred to me, and make but few obser- 
vations on this celebrated person. His stature being small, 
and his person, though not ill, yet not very well formed, 
he cannot, on that account, be supposed to have a very 
striking air, but his countenance has powerful expression; 
and decision and determination, when he is grave and 
thoughtful, are most emphatically marked in it. His eyes 
are common grey, and have nothing remarkable in them. 
I am disposed to think, that the lower part of the face, 
which is the most striking in that of Bonaparte, is the 
most decisive indication of an inexorable and prompt line 
of conduct. In performing the honours of the levee, this 
was not at all observable ; his smile was extremely engag- 
ing; his general expressions very pleasing, and his man- 
ners divested of all haughtiness, without manifesting the 
least of that studied condescension, which, in persons of 
great rank, is often more offensive even than arrogance 
and rudeness. Admiring him as a great military character, 
whose reputation was undoubted and hard-earned, I look- 
ed upon Bonaparte as a superior man, born to command 
the destinies of millions, and felt incredible satisfaction at 
beholding this great general. His presence, however, in- 
spired me with no awe. The military exploits of the war- 
rior have their exclusive merit, as demonstrations of 



17^ 

genius and talent, in-esistibly influencing the fate of so 
ciety, but falling far short of the exertions of the poet, the 
orator and the legislator. That which adorns and gives 
resplendent lustre to the military character is the love of 
liberty, impelling the warrior to beat down the iron hand 
of oppression and despotism, and accomplishing the inde- 
pendence and happiness of millions. 

' At the moment I saw Bonaparte in the midst of gene- 
rals, ambassadors, and courtiers,— Aloys Reding, labour- 
ing to emancipate the Swiss from the yoke of foreigners, 
was to me a far more respectable and more truly elevated 
object. The wicked attempt to subdue Spain had not then 
commenced, an attempt far less excusable than the subju- 
gation of Switzerland, and productive of infinitely more 
misery and bloodshed. It has since taken place, and has 
forever tarnished the fame of Bonaparte. The republican 
general converted into an emperor, follows the career of 
Louis XIV. with far superior energy and perseverance, 
doubtless, with more extended views, and much greater 
power. 

" When black ambition stains a public cause," we no 
longer revere and applaud the consummate general or able 
monarch. I had heard, too, that Toussaint, the friend and 
hope of his country, had been seized, and was on his way 
to a prison in France. I did not then know that he had 
there languished and died ; but I pitied the sable chieftain, 
and could not esteem his oppressor. An enlightened mind, 
and a just appreciation of the rights of men, had distin- 
guished this character. Could I have seen him pining in a 
lonely dungeon, his hopes extinguished, his family and 
friends far distant, ignorant of his country's fate, and sur- 
rounded by men who little sympathized with him ; could I 
have seen him languishing out his few remaining days, 
his dark visage saddened and withering, and his groans 
hourly growing fainter ! — How little then should I have 
enjoyed this splendid levee : how gladly should I have 



;176 

withdrawn ! As it was, I left the Thuilleries with my 
curiosity gratified, but without feeling any impression of 
pleasure or admiration from having seen the first consul. 

To entertain such sentiments was unavoidable, and 
would have been inexcusable in me, living, as I did, at 
this time, in the society of Mr. Fox. The sterling supe- 
riority of that great man's character, then a simple indi- 
vidual, divested of all power, but still the advocate and 
supporter of liberty and peace— the philosopher, scholar, 
and orator, untainted by ambition, vanity, or avarice, full 
of humanity, and hating cruelty, as well in governments 
as in individuals, even his mild domestic virtues conspired 
to make me view the astonishing spectacle at the Thuille- 
ries, with indifference and calmness. The very research at 
the Depot des Archives^ contributed to produce such a 
frame of mind. I was daily reading the letters of Louis 
XIV. once styled the Great^ whose meanness of soul, and 
narrowness of spirit, as well as his total want of generous 
views, and of liberality in his estimate of human nature, 
had sufficiently disgusted me with a great, arbitrary mon- 
arch, had I not been seeing an embryo one. 

After the levee, a very pleasant party of English, invi- 
ted by lord R. Spencer, dined at Roberts's, the first resto^ 
rateur's in Paris : as it consisted of ladies and gentlemen 
it was extremely pleasant. The entertainment was sump« 
tuous, and served up with the same order and elegance, 
as in a private house. Among others, Mr. Kemble, the 
monarch of the English stage, was there ; but accustomed, 
as I was, to the ease and elegance of the French, as also 
to the unaffected nobleness of manner in English persons 
of high rank, Mr. Kemble did not strike me as agreeable. 
There was an air of self- consequence which repelled*— a 
manner which did not harmonize with the tone of Paris ; 
-=>Mr. Kemble, when he was civil, was condescending; 
and when he spoke, it was a little in the style of an oracle. 
He was a polite gentleman, however, well-informed, and 



177 

desirous of information ; paying a just tribute to the 
French stage, and wanting only six or twelve months resi- 
dence in France, to soften the oracle into a pleasing com^ 
panion, and the monarch into a friendly man. The com- 
pany was select and agreeable ; and, amongst his old friends 
and eminent countrymen, Mr. Fox in particular, was quite 
cheerful and happy. The fatiguing ceremonies of the day, 
and the grandeur of the new court of France, were for- 
gotten in the social converse of the evening. The simpli- 
city and dignified manners of the English nobility, never 
appeared to me to greater advantage. Their independent 
minds mad^ them review with philosophic indifference, 
the pageant of the Thuilleries. They met it as a matter 
of course ; as a thing resulting from the inevitable conse- 
quences of the war ; not, however, without reflections 
upon the mistakes and ignorance of that ministry, who 
had so essentially contributed to place Bonaparte on his 
new throne, and to raise the French nation to so unexam- 
pled an height ; in fine, they appreciated every thing with 
exact justice, without indulging in foolish invectives 
against the first magistrate of the nation, in the midst of 
which they were, nor repining at success, which appeared 
beyond the power of man to counteract. 

The following day Mr. and Mrs. Fox, and some of their 
friends, went to visit the celebrated abbe Sieves. They 
found him in retirement about twelve miles from Paris, 
cultivating his estates, (national domain) to a considerable 
extent granted him by the new consular government, as a 
remuneration for the past, an asylum for the future, and a 
proper eloignement from all subsequent cares of govern- 
ment. Here he enjoyed a happy domestic life ; but as I 
did not see him, I am unable to sketch his character or 
manners. Mr. Fox seemed to consider him in a respect- 
able light, but to entertain no very high opinion of him» 



CHAPTER XII. 



THE recurrence to the best historical researches^ 
was a useful as well as instructive labour, as it rendered 
other enjoyments more poignant, and prevented the tedium 
arising from too much amusement and pleasure. The 
character of Louis the XlVth, studied in the quietness of 
the Rue du Bacq^ and devested of all its transitory glare,, 
was a good corrective, if any were wanting, of undue ad- 
miration of any arbitrary despot. The manner in which 
Louis received the account of the death of Charles the II, 
and his subsequent suspicions of James, showed, that he 
considered Charles as a dependent, having more talents 
than his brother, — ^more entirely unprincipled — and, con- 
sequently more useful to him. — " J'ai appris," says the 
king, " avec etonnement et en deplaisir bien sensible la 
mort si subite du roi d'Angleterre." He speaks exactly 
as if he were the arbiter of events, and that he had aright 
to be angry when one of his vassals died inopportunely 
for him. 

Mr. Fox discovered, with some surprise, how extreme- 
ly bigotted to his religion Louis was : it Mras evident in all 
the letters to Barillon. Thus, whilst he was bribing a 



17P 

a monarch to trample down and debase his subjects, he 
was also urging the restoration of the catholic religion, 
whose precepts forbade the interference with, or the over- 
throw of, established governments. I am inclined to think 
that James had more pride than Charles, or rather that 
the latter had none, and that though James's conduct was 
clearly a continuation of Charles's as to money and pro= 
fessions of subservience to France, yet that his pride at all 
times led him to act the independent English monarch, to 
the great displeasure of the haughty Louis. James pro- 
bably desired to become an absolute monarch, independent 
of his parliament, and of the French king; but as he knew 
that his arduous attempt required secret funds to support 
him, he dissembled with Louis, and did not do more than 
encourage foreign ambassadors to hope something from 
him ; thus Louis, doubting the sincerity of James's com- 
munications to Barillon, says, in writing of the renewal of 
his treaty with the States General . " Je trouve que les 
ministres etrangers ont raison de ne le pas regarder, com- 
me une simple formalite, ainsi que le cour ou vous etes 
veut vous le persuader. J'estime au contraire qu'elle 
jette par la le fondement d'une ligne qui peut donner cou- 
rage a ceux qui ne pouvent souffrir le repos, dont I'Eu- 
rope jouit a present." He also testifies similar uneasiness 
in regard to Spain. 

In the progress of the research, Mr. Fox displayed all 
the qualities of a man of business ; attentive, indefatiga- 
ble, and acute ; allowing neither to himself nor his asso- 
ciates any remission till the allotted business of the day 
was performed. 

Some time after the levee, we dined at M. Talleyrand's, 
at Neuilly ; we went between six and seven, but did not 
dine till eight. The dinner hour at Paris had become 
ridiculously late, and as in London in fashionable life, re- 
sembled more the Roman supper, than what accords 
with the modern term dinner. M. Talleyrand was at 



180 

Malmaison, transacting business with the first consul, and 
the dinner waited for him. Every thing was in a profuse 
and elegant style; M. Talleyrand and Madame sat in the 
sides of the table ; the company, amounting to between thirty 
and forty, (and this, I believe, did not much exceed the ordi- 
nary daily number) were attended by almost as many ser- 
vants, without any livery. Behind Madame Talleyrand's 
chair, two young blacks, splendidly habited in laced clothes, 
were placed ; the master of the feast devoted himself to a 
few distinguished persons around him; on them he be- 
stowed his most chosen and precious wine, and to them 
he directed all his conversation. 

Several emigres and ex-nobles, who had made their 
peace with government, and were desirous of advancement, 
or sought relief or compensation under the new regime, 
were at the lower end of the table. They were little no- 
ticed, or if I said were altogether neglected, I should be 
more correct. As I sat near some of them, I was filled 
with concern for their altered state : those who have never 
had an elevated station in life, do not feel, comparatively 
speaking, half the stings and arrows of outrageous fortune, 
when calamity and poverty fall upon them. The due 
d'Uzeze, {ci-devant) formerly one of the first and most 
ancient peers of old France, was close to me ; he was now 
a humble and distressed individual, devested of title and 
property, and seeking, at the table of the minister for fo- 
reign affairs, under the consular government, for notice 
and assistance. He had come to Neuilly in a hired one^ 
horse cabriolet, without servant or companion. He was 
of a genteel, prepossessing, and rather youthful appear- 
ance, and seemed to bear his change of fortune with an 
admirable degree of philosophy and good humour, and 
was even playful upon his own situation, and spoke of the 
splendor and elevation of others, without rancour or envy, 
I could have imagined mj^self, after the battle of Brundu- 
cium, sitting at a Homan table, Julius Caesar triumphantj 



181 

and the exiles returning, and permitted to become guests 
of the triumphant party. 

The company was mixed. A young naval officer sat 
at the foot of the table. M. Hauterive, of the depart- 
ment of foreign affairs, was near me : he was sensible, 
unaffected, and well informed ; of plain but conciliating 
manners ; he seemed a man of integrity and sincerity- 
estimable qualities in a courtier ! — M. Roederer also was 
there— several officers, two or three physicians, a few Eng- 
lish and other foreigners. 

In the evening Madame Talleyrand's circle commenced* 
The corps diplomatique flowed in, and the minister, the 
whole remainder of the evening, transacted business with 
them, taking one aside at one a time, to one room, ano- 
ther to another. Count Cobenzel, the Nestor of the 
band, was there — Each member of the corps looked " un- 
utterable things." The interests of nations were thus 

discussed beside a picture or chimney piece, and I could 
not but admire the dexterity and attention of M, Talley- 
rand. The prince of Saxe Weimar took his leave this 
evening of Madame, on his return to Germany ; a pleas- 
ing young man, promising to be respectable and good, if 
his rank did not harden his heart, and pride beset its best 
avenues ! The abbate Casti, author of " Gli Animali 
parlanti^'* added to the interest of the evening assembly*— 
he was eighty years of age— his head was white, and his 
figure inclined with age ; but he was vivacious, talkative, 
and gay ; admiral Brueys, a very animated little man, 
(who is, I think, since dead,) proud of his daughter, a very 
young girl, who danced inimitably — Russian, German, 
Italian nobles and their spouses ; and many polite and 
agreeable French people — continued to come in and diver- 
sify the scene. Madame Talleyrand maintained a good 
deal of state, and was attended, on entering the drawing 
room, by two young females, elegantly clothed in white., 
and burning frankincense as she advanced.. 



182 



Mr. Fox alternately conversed or played at cards- — al- 
ways easy, and always animated ; he who in the retirement 
of St. Anne's Hill appeared devoted to a rural and philo- 
sophic life so entirely as if he had never moved in the politi- 
cal sphere, now was the polished and accomplished gentle- 
man, speakmg French, Italian, or Spanish, admired by all, a 
much for the amiability of his character and manners, as 
he had long been for the splendour of his talents. As the 
■weather continued extremely hot, the entertainments of 
the minister for foreign affairs were very agreeable in 
the country ; and the drive on returning to Paris, in these 
charming serene nights, was very often not the least agree- 
able part of the excursion. The day after this dinner, 
and heuceforth, we dined frequently at Neuilly. 

Madame Bonaparte's drawing room succeeded : it 
was held in the lower apartments of the Thuilleries. The 
ceremony was short, cold, and insipid : Madame, the dis- 
parity of whose age and appearance, from that of the first 
consul, was ill concealed by a great deal of rouge, sat at 
t^e head of a circle of ladies richly habited. Buonaparte, 
after they had paid their compliments, came from an inte- 
rior apartment, went round to the circle, said a few words 
to these ladies, and retired. Mr. Fox stayed but a short 
time ; having paid his compliments to Madame, there was 
nothing interesting for him in this state affair. This lady 
was spoken extremely well of at Paris ; her humanity and 
disposition to befriend, were allowed by all ; and it was said 
that whenever she could, she interfered to alleviate the dis- 
tresses, and procure pardon for those who had incurred the 
displeasure of government. It was considered that whatever 
had been the errors of her earlier days, she had redeemed 
them by the many good actions she had performed, and 
from thence a sentiment of respect had been generated, 
Vv^iich softened envy, and gave a sort of dignity to her, 
very advantageous in her high station. 

Mr. Fox seemed to think extremely well of her. As 
she loved plants and understood botany, he found it agree- 



183 

able to converse with her on this elegant and interesting 
subject. She had enriched Malmaison bv a very fine and 
choice collection of plants, and it is fair to presume, that 
she who raised to a throne employed herself in acts of hu- 
manity, and in this innocent and delightful pursuit, pos- 
sessed no common mind. It was said in Paris, however, 
at this time, that Madame Bonaparte had been nearly dis- 
graced several times, but that the brothers of the first 
consul supported her, on the expectation that if he had 
no issue of his own, some of their children might succeed 
him ; so that a divorce was probably in Bonaparte's con- 
templation, from the moment that he saw a prospect of 
making the government permanent and hereditary ! 

At this time an invitation was sent to Mr. Fox, from 
Miss Helen Maria Williams. She requested the pleasure 
of his company to an evening party, and to express how 
much this honour would gratify her, wrote that it would 
be " a white day," thus distinguished. Some of Mr. 
Fox's friends wished him to decline this invitation altoge- 
ther, from apprehension of giving a handle to ill-nature and 
calumny. He, however, always the same, disdaining the 
fear of suspicion^ and unwilling ungraciously to refuse an 
invitation earnestly pressed, did not agree with them, and 
went for a short time. I mention this circumstance be- 
cause it proves how unwilling he was to give offence or 
pain, as also, how much he soared above common party 
views. He was aware that he might be misrepresented 
and blackened for going to Miss Williams's conversazione^ 
as much as he had been for admitting Mr. A. O'Connor 
to his presence ; but he despised slander, was not anxious 
for place, and was too benignant to slight, with contempt 
and scorn, the request of an accomplished female, whose 
vanity, as well as a natural admiration of so great a man^ 
were deeply concerned that he should grant it. 

A very interesting dinner, to which Mr. Fox was at 
this time invited^ brought vividly to recollection the 



184 

horrors and excesses of revolutionary times. M. . 
regaux, a banker noted for his wealth, integrity, and po- 
liteness, requested Mr. Fox and several of his friends to 
dine with him : he was a man advanced in years, of a no- 
ble presence, and most agreeable frankness of manners. 
The company was select and pleasing. M. Perregaux, by 
his good sense and consummate prudence, had escaped the 
very worst times of Robespierre. It was, however, still a 
matter of wonder to himself how he had escaped. He had 
seen his friends daily fall around him, and, having a small 
country house at Passy, a short distance from Paris, he re- 
tired there to avoid being in the midst of accumulated 
horrors, and often in a calm day, or evening, heard dis- 
tmctly the chop of the guillotine. 



CHAPTER XIIL 



WE continued busily employed every morning in 
transcribing and reading at the office of the archives ; 
and, as we were never interrupted or disturbed, I was sur- 
prised one day by the door opening. A stranger of ati 
interesting and graceful figure came gentle in, advanced 
rapidly, and in embracing Mr. Fox, shewed a countenance 
full of joy, while tears rolled down his cheeks. Mr. Fox 
testified equal emotion. It was M. de la Fayette, the 
virtuous and unshaken friend of liberty ! Lop^, James, Ba= 
rillon, all vanished from my mind — a more gratifying sub- 
ject for contemplation was before me ! 

Fayette, at a very early age, had visited London ; he 
had there become acquainted with Mr. Fox, and they had 
not met again till now. There was too much congeniality 
in their souls not to produce an early and strong sentiment 
of friendship. Destined from their youth to be, in their 
respective countries, the protectors of the sacred cause of 
liberty, they had fallowed different paths, but each led to 
the same temple^— that of glory faunded on the people's 
happiness, 

2 A 



186 

^I. Fayette, born under a despotic regime, saw notHing 
in his own country to employ a young and enthusiastic 
mind. North America attracted his attention — sorely op- 
pressed, asking for justice— all her complaints rejected*—^ 
her petitions unheededher— murmurs disregarded — America 
was beginning to feel the sacred impulse of liberty — she 
was stretching and unfolding her half-fledged wings^ 
doubting her powers — dreading her adversary— and waver- 
ing between submission and despair :— she was in the in- 
fancy of her strength, when Fayette, animated with the 
glorious cause, left all the luxuries and indulgences which 
rank and fortune could procure him, crossed the Atlantic^ 
and offered himself to the Americans, as a champion and a 
friend. He built, at his own expense, a frigate, to aid 
the cause ; and, by his military and civil exertions, contri- 
buted not a little to the emancipation of the United States 
of America ! Whilst Fayette thus promoted the cause of 
liberty in America, his noble friend, in the British house 
of commons, laboured, with equal zeal, to inspire an ob- 
stinate and unenlightened ministry with respect for the 
rights of humanity, and mercy for the tortured Americans i 
loudly and repeatedly he raised his voice in their favour, 
and if he did not convince the ministry, he at length con- 
vinced the nation. 

Peace was made, and Fox found his benevolent mind, 
relieved from hearing daily of civil discord, of unavailing 
bloodshed, and of horrid warfare, in which each party was 
weakened, no object was gained, and the enemies of the 
two countries could alone find pleasure. America was 
acknowledged independent : her prosperity has since been 
progressive and unexampled ; and it is no common debt of 
gratitude she owes to Fox and Fayette. The affectionate 
interview which took place before my eyes, between those 
great and excellent men, gave a new turn to my thoughts* 
I observed, with secret and unspeakable satisfaction, that 
purity of principles, and goodness of heart, formed a bond 
which no tims or separation dissolves. These great and 



187 

good men had not met for many long years— different 
countries contained them — different pursuits occupied them 
— different connexions engaged them — but their excellent 
minds still sympathized; their hearts were united, and the 
people's cause was to both like a polar star. 

M. de la Fayette had come from the country to see 
Mr. Fox, and to invite him to his house. He now resid- 
ed entirely there, and had been allured from his retire- 
ment by this call of friendship and affection. In a few 
moments their sentiments were interchanged; in a few 
looks their thoughts were known. The review of the past 
was taken in a moment, and they soon appeared to be af- 
fectionate friends, who, having parted for a few days, 
were now reunited. M. de la Fayette resided about 
thirty miles from Paris, and was quite unconnected with, 
and unconsulted by, the government. He viewed the new 
state of things with melancholy and regret ; not from an 
unfavourable opinion of the first consul, but from a root- 
ed and principled conviction, that arbitrary power is in- 
jurious to the happiness of the people. 

The reader will find annexed to this volume, a letter of 
M. de la Fayette, on the consulship for life, which, as it 
is in perfect consonance with every act of that excellent 
and pure character, will be studied with pleasure by every 
lover of liberty. A fervent and chastened love of freedom 
is conspicuous in it: and the patriotic author seems to 
have closed his political career by this last act, in a way 
which will endear him to posterity, and rank his name in 
history, as the undeviating patriot, the friend of his coun- 
try's rights, and, in every place and situation, the oppon- 
ent of despotic power. — Let him who peruses this letter 
feel the value of steadiness of principle, but let no one pre- 
sume, in order to throw blame upon Bonaparte, to set 
forth this interesting document as evidence of his crimi- 
nality, who himself every day prostitutes himself to pow- 
er, and riots in the spoils of an abused people. Fayette 



188 

-wrote for the world and posteritj^ His view was not to 
disturb an established government, or indulge in petulance 
and spleen ; but to leave a record, which in future times 
might vindicate his own character, and inform his descen- 
dants, that to the last Fayette was consistent. 

Since his retirement, and in the gloomy prospects of 
the republic, he had lived in the most private and simple 
manner ; in the bosom of a tender and affectionate family 
he found every consolation; he frequented no place of 
amusement, never went to the theatre, and, with a limited 
and curtailed fortune, exhibited the bright example of a 
public man, content with a little, free from envious and 
angry feelings, and willing to live in dignified silence, when 
he had not the power to do good. Mr. Fox cheerfully 
complied with M. de la Fayette's wish of seeing him at 
La Grange^ (the name of his country house,) and agreed 
to visit him in a fortnight. 

Mr. Fox this day received all the gratification of a feel- 
ing and affectionate mind. The family of general Fox 
had arrived ; and, as no man was more domestic, no man 
was more attached to all his family, he found in his ex- 
tended circle, further enlarged by Mr. Henry Fox, his 
nephew, and niece, every gratification he could desire. 
That amiable family were worthy their exalted relative, 
and it added not merely to his satisfaction in seeing them 
around him in Paris, but their presence highly contributed 
to the pleasure and charm of our select society. 

On the following day, we drove to St. Cloud, having 
obtained an order of admission. That superb chateau 
was now furnishing,' and putting incomplete order for the 
reception of the first consul. As we approached it every 
thing wore a military appearance ; sentinels, every twenty 
yards, paraded about, diminishing, in my eyes, the beauty 
of the place. When we entered, however, the display of 
elegance, taste, and riches, dazzled and enchanted every 
eye. Every room was fitted up differently. The silk in each 



189 

wa§ of a different colour. The gallery and chapel were 
untouched, remaining as the royal family had left them; 
but the whole was, we understood, to be altered and im- 
proved ; and none of the furniture or ornaments placed 
there by the»queen was to be retained. The style of orna- 
menting was in the most exquisite taste. We saw a plain 
and commodious cabinet, fitted up for the first consul, 
and a most superb and costly bath for Madame. The 
expense of furnishing and fitting up, St, Cloud, was esti- 
mated at 500,000. 

As Mr. Fox proceeded in his research among the ar- 
chives, an occasional day intervened, as he advanced in 
his progress, which was given to invitations, or visits of 
an interesting nature. A dejeuner^ given by Madame 
Recamier, at Clichy, at this time, collected almost every 
distinguished person at Paris; we went there about three 
o'clock. So much has been said of the beauty of the 
charming hostess, that it would be superfluous to say more, 
than that every one was captivated by it. But her simple 
and unaffected manners, a genuine mildness and goodness of 
disposition, obvious in all she said arid did, with as little 
vanity as is possible to conceive, in a young woman so 
extravagantly admired, were still more interesting. She 
received her visitors with singular ease and frankness. 
The house at Clichy was a pretty one, and the gar-dens 
extended to the river ; in the latter the company walked 
about till all were assembled. 

There, for the first time, we saw general Moreau; his 
appearance was plain and heavy, his dress rather negli- 
gent ; his countenance, I thought, denoted indolence, and 
his air had nothing martial or elevated. He struck me, 
then, as quite inadequate to be placed in competition with 
Bonaparte ; there was much bon hommcy much calmness 
about him ; but I discovered no latent energy ; and al- 
though I endeavoured to admire him for his past exploits, 
I could not bring myself to think him a great man. Mr. 



190 

Fox addressed himself to him, and turned the discourse 
upon Louis XIV. and the history of those times. Mo- 
reau, upon this subject, was dull, and did not elicit 
one spark of intelligence. Afterwards at table, he was free 
in his discourse about the army ; but those who heard his 
conversation remarked that he testified more want of 
thought, than prudence, in his manner of expressing him- 
self. Moreau was above the middle size, but his person 
was ungraceful, and not well formed. He lived at this 
time about ten or twelve miles from Paris, and was said 
to be much devoted to his wife and to hunting. 

Eugene Beauharnois, viceroy of Italy, was at this 
entertainment; and a great crowd of French characters, 
eminent for rank and talents. Since the period of which 
I write, the amiable and lovely Madame Recamier, has 
sustained a great reverse of fortune, by the failure of Mon- 
sieur Recamier, who was a banker. She bore her fall, it 
is said, with great fortitude ; and, reducing her establish- 
ment from a splendid to a very humble one, continued to 
live with all that calm cheerfulness which had marked her 
in times of affluence. If I had admired this most charm- 
ing woman at Paris, surrounded by admirers, and possess- 
ing every thing that wealth could bestow — as gentle, un- 
assuming, and untainted by vanity, how much more admi- 
rable did I think her when I heard that she bore adversity 
with nobleness of mind, which shews the possessor to be 
independent of fortune and of the world ! I have since 
learned, indeed, that this admirable woman is no more : 
forming a high opinion of her conduct at Clichy, I have 
never ceased to think of her without esteem. I mourned 
over her misfortunes, and felt that grief at her death, which 
is ever due to the memory of a lovely, accomplished, and 
unaiTected woman. 

I cannot help mentioning an interesting little piece^ 
which I saw at the theatre rue Feydeu in the evening, in 
company with Mr. and Mrs. Fox. It was called, " Nina 



191 

f>ula follepar amour. ^"^ We were all charmed with it^ 
A young girl in the country falls in love : her friends re- 
fuse their approbation of the young man of her choice 
— she grows melancholy and deranged. Her parents, 
alarmed, use every method to restore, but in vain. At 
length, her lover is brought to see her'-^she does not know 
him — ^he speaks to her — still she is insensible — ^till a look 
recalls her wayward fancy ; she trembles, and begins, in a 
confused way, to recognise her beloved ! Tears burst forth, 
and nature and reason assert their rights !— The acting 
was so excellent, that it is impossible to do justice to it, 
but it may serve as a powerful proof that the French pos- 
sess exquisite feeling, and on the stage are unrivalled in ex- 
citing it, in that familiar and tender manner which comes 
home to all hearts. 

The day succeeding the dejeuner ^ at Clichy, presented 
us with a new and curious, though certainly not very in- 
teresting sight. It was a seance of the tribunate, a body to 
whom the task of digesting and preparing laws for the 
consideration of the legislature had been originally allotted. 
The sitting was held in a part of the Palais Royal. As we 
waited in the antichamber, an officer, who had been pri- 
soner at Portsmouth, recognised Mr. Fox, and, in a very 
handsome manner, thanked him for some former interfer- 
ence in the house of commons, in behalf of himself and 
his fellow-prisoners. His figure was good and imposing — 
his manner polite and grateful — and as the act was quite 
spontaneous, it had all that effect, which the overflow of 
the heart gives on public occasions. Mr. Fox was embar- 
rassed by the compliments paid him, and scarcely replied. 

As we were summoned to the seance by the beating of 
a drum, I did not anticipate any thing very august. Nor 
was I deceived. We entered a small hall, of an oval form: 
a semicircle of benches were arranged for members, and 
a gallery was raised for spectators. Very few persons 
were present : the clerk or secretary read the names of 



im 



persons presenting book's to the nation— their nature and 
contents-^some other equally interesting forms were gone 
through, when the meeting broke up. This Was a strange 
scene to one accustomed to the English house of commons: 
we restrained our smiles, and left the place diverted with 
this specimen of the exertions of a French legislative body. 
We afterwards understood that warm discussions had ta- 
ken place, relating to new laws, in the tribunate, and that 
government in consequence had thought fit to jreduce it to 
the phantom we saw. 

From thence we proceeded to behold a different sight 
indeed— the Hotel des Invalid^s. It is a noble and most in- 
teresting establishmept. The officers and privates there 
enjoy repose, and tranquilly wear out the rest of their 
days. The interior forms a noble and even sublime sight ; 
trophies and standards adorn the halls, and are most ap- 
propriately placed ; the tomb of Turenne rests in awful 
silence ! The remains of that great general, and excellent 
man, filled me with veneration and sorrow; he was the 
father of his soldiers, and the supporter of his country. 
Such men are honoured by all nations, and live for the 
benefit of society at large ; they soften the horrors of war, 
and accelerate the return of peace. Happy in domestic 
life, their ambition does not hurry them into perpetual 
broils ; but when called by their country, their virtue is 
bright in its defence. I stood before the tomb ! I imagin- 
ed I heard the groans of his soldiers — I thought I saw 
their tears and their rage, when his horse came past with- 
out its illustrious rider ! they had lost a protector and 
friend, never to be replaced ! 

Our labours at the archives were now drawing to a 
close ; and as I rejoiced at the accomplishment of Mr. 
Fox's purpose, so I was glad to have more time to ob- 
serve the new and striking scenes around me. I frequent- 
ed the theatres as much as possible, going often alone to 
see the best pieces; and this I recommend strongly to 



193 



every stranger wishing to become master of the French 
language and its pronunciation; and that not as mere 
amusement, but as a study of their first dramatic authors. 
I now saw, with infinite pleasure, the Zaire of Voltaire 
represented. M. and Madame Talma, and La Fonds pleas- 
ed me highly. With the Italian opera I was quite enchan- 
ted ; the music and singing were excellent ; the house a 
proper size, and the acting good. The TartufFe, of the in- 
imitable Moliere, I saw at the theatre Francois with great 
delight ; though I thought it did not answer the expecta- 
tions on the stage, which the perusal of that excellent 
comedy had raised. It would, however, fatigue my readers 
if I were to enumerate every thing we now saw, the 
Monumens Francois, disposed in a manner the happiest 
that can be conceived, the Jardin de Plantes, Pantheon, 
Palais de Justice, &c. &c. 



2 b 



CHAPTER XIV. 



THE new year, according to the republican style., 
was now (the 18th September) commencing; five com- 
plimentary days preceded the 1st of Vindemaire. The 
French government, always attentive to the amusements 
of the people, had ordered fetes, illuminations, and the 
exhibition of the produce of national industry, to take 
place on this occasion. Paris, in consequence, was gay 
beyond measure. The fete, which was held in the Champs 
Elysees, although attended by so many thousand people, 
exhibited no disorder or impropriety ; no intoxication was 
to be observed, every one enjoyed the various sports ; the 
day was excessively fine, and there could not be a more 
pleasing sight. In the evening illuminations at the Thuil- 
leries succeeded, which had a delightful effect ; the gar- 
dens were open, and every person permitted to walk about 
as they pleased. At this time, splendid parties at the mar- 
quis de Gallo's, and M. Lucchesine's took place, and the 
round of amusements and pleasures, which followed one 
another, scarcely left time to dress, and not much to think. 
This lasted but a very few days, and closed with the ex- 
hibition at the Louvre. A square had been fitted up with 
temporary shops, an esplanade and pillars ; within these 
shops were deposited every thing rare and excellent, the 
produce of the national industry. 



195 



Previous to the indiscriminate admission of the people, 
a few were permitted to see this admirable display of na- 
tional^ wealth. Mr. and Mrs. Fox, general Fitzpatrick, 
lord St. John, and myself, went the first day. The first 
consul, attended by his guards, came in a plain coach. I 
had an opportunity of judging better of him here than at 
the levee. He walked in public with an inflexible and 
commanding gravity : the smallness of his figure lost its 
disadvantages in the awful severity of his countenance ; his 
step was measured and calm, and his eyes did not wander 
but were fixed, or looked straight forward. As the first 
magistrate of the state, and its military chieftain also, he 
carried himself with great propriety and decorum in pub- 
lic, and there was nothing ferocious or rough in his de- 
meanour. He spoke some time to Mr. Fox, who was in 
one of the shops, but as I was not with him, I cannot re^ 
late the conversation. 

This exhibition of the produce of national industry was 
very interesting ; the finest silks, the most beautiful tapes- 
try, porcelaine, lace, cambrics, furniture of every kind, 
and of new inventions, works in steel, glass, marble, 
every thing which an ingenious and flourishing people 
could send to Paris, from every quarter, were here ex- 
hibited. It was a most pleasing and instructive sight, and 
an example worthy of the imitation of all nations. 

As our time for going to M. la Fayette's approached, I 
anticipated with delight the pleasures of the country, and 
the society of the family at La Grange. Mr. Fox looked 
forward to it with great satisfaction ; his friendship for its 
possessor, and natural inclination for the country, attract- 
ing him strongly there. 

A residence of a considerable time in Paris with him, 
had confirmed, and increased my sentiments of admiration 
and esteem for this truly great man. His moderation 
and simplicity were perfectly unchanged in this great vor- 



196 



tex of vanity, pomp, and pleasure : receiving daily the 
most flattering (and, to any other man, intoxicating) marks 
of general esteem and applause, from French, English, 
and other persons, of almost every other nation ; he was 
uniformly the same : no variation appeared, and not a 
shadow of vanity passed over his character. At times 
walking alone with him, m an evening, in the garden of 
the Hotel de Richelieu, I have been instructed and always 
interested by his conversation. The French government 
did not inspire him with any respect for its constitutiorj, 
but he took a philosophic and statesmanlike view of it. 
At these times his manner was peculiarly serene ; his con- 
versation candid and undisguised — saying little — listening 
a great deal, and then interposing a simple yet powerful 
remark, founded on history and the nature of man. He 
listened with complacency to every statement of facts, and 
though he drew different conclusions from them, was far 
from being displeased at opinions more unfavourable to 
the French government than his own. These were pre- 
cious moments. Mr. Fox instructed often by a look, and 
the smile which said so expressively, yet good-naturedly 
" surely you are going too far ;" was not to be forgotten. 

This method of instructing or improving a youthful and 
Inoxperienced mind, was a very singular one. He allowed 
his companion to talk, to ask questions, and to express 
opinions quite dissimilar to his own ; but by withholding 
his approbation, by the smile of doubt, and a gentle dis- 
sent on one or two points, he brought him to re-consider 
the question (allowing him his full merit for original and 
sound remark,) and by dispassionate investigation, to cor- 
rect the errors incident to hasty or ill-grounded opinions. 
Truth was his sole object, aad he never disdained the hum- 
blest attem.pts to elucidate it in others, if he was clearly 
satisfied with their sincerity. 

It cost him no pain to surrender his own opinion upon 
conviction—he readily did so, but there were two vices in 



197 

society singled out, and deservedly lashed, by the excellent 
author of Joseph Andrews, which Mr. Fox mortally hated 
' — Hypocrisy and Affectation ; these were quite in- 
tolerable in private and intimate society to him, and he 
never assumed any appearance of esteem where he did not 
feel it. He kept a plain and moderate table at Paris, 
where his earliest friends were often found. One of them, 
Mr. Hare, then at Paris, was too ill to dine out, and Mr. 
Fox visited him often. Mr. Hare, once the brilliant me- 
teor in society, whose wit, and powers of pleasing, were 
amazingly great — the friend of Fox, and the men of genius 
of the day, I saw then declining in his sphere — the lan- 
guid countenance and feeble frame betokened approaching 
dissolution — his eyes yet beamed with tremulous fire, his 
mind was clear and undisturbed. He testified much affec- 
tion for Mr. Fox, and seemed to revive at his pre- 
sence. His decease was not far distant ! How little was 
I aware that his illustrious friend would follow so soon ! 

Mr. Fox seldom entertained at his table more than six 
or eight. The conversation was always cheerful and 
pleasant. I recollect M. de Narbonne, an ex-minister, 
dining with him. A man of more vivacity than talent, 
an eloquent talker, a great admirer of Hume, the English 
historian, and consequently no enemy to royalty. At one 
of those pleasant small dinner parties, I have seen Mr. 
West and Mr. Opie, and heard Mr. Fox discuss the me- 
rits of almost all the grand painters with great acumen, 
taste, and discrimination. Such parties were greatly pre- 
ferable to the dinners at the minister for foreign affairs. 
What a contrast too ! At the one the smooth intercourse 
and studied dissimulation of the world, at the other, sin- 
cerity, politeness, and wit ! 

Previous to our leaving Paris for La Grange, Madame 
Cabarrus, ci-devant Tallien, gave an elegant and sump- 
tuous dinner to Mr. Fox and other distinguished foreigners- 
Every thing which taste, genius, or art, could contrive^ 



198 



conspired to make this the most perfect sort of entertain- 
ment I had witnessed. Madame Cabarrus was a most 
lovely woman, something upon a large scale, and of the 
most fascinating manners. She was rather in disgrace at 
court, where decorum and morals were beginning to be 
severely attended to : Madame was supposed, when sepa- 
rated from her husband, to have been indiscreet, and did 
not appear there. 

Most of Mr. Fox's friends were at this dinner | but 
the surprize, and, indeed, displeasure of some English 
characters of political consequence, was great at finding Mr, 
Arthur O'Connor was one of the guests. This had been 
done inadvertently by Madame Cabarrus, and was certainly 
not considered. Mr. now lord Erskine, was extremely- 
uneasy, lest evil report should misrepresent this matter in 
England ; but Mr. Fox, ever magnanimous, treated it as 
an unavoidable, though unlucky circumstance. He spoke 
to Mr. O'Connor as usual, and lost none of the enjoyment 
of the evening from an event, which, being trivial^ must 
be forgotten -when malignity was fatigued with recounting 
it, I do not recollect upon the whole that Mr. Fox saw 
this gentleman more than twice during his stay in Paris. 
It was indeed, understood that the French government did 
not look with a favourable eye upon the Irish exiles, and 
they certainly received no public countenance whatever. 

Madame Cabarrus had a charming house, at the extre- 
mity of the city ; the gardens were pretty, and taste reign- 
ed every where. This fascinating woman exerted herself 
for the accommodation of her guests with infinite kindness 
and elegance : she was scarcely satisfied to allow her ser- 
vants to do any little office in the course of a delightful 
evening, but often anticipated the wishes and wants of her 
guests, herself. French horns played during dinner, and 
in the evening, with a very happy effect, being well placed 
and admirably played. A ventriloquist of extraordinary 
powers entertained us extremely. His imitation of a re- 



199 



yolutionary committee in the corner of the room, was ad- 
mirable, as well as several other proofs he gave of this as- 
tonishing talent. M. Tallien was himself at this time in 
Paris, but all intercourse between him and his wife had 
ceased. Lord St. John, who afterwards met him in a 
private company, told me, that he gave a very interesting 
account of the apprehension of Robespierre. It will be 
recollected that Tallien was one of the principal persons 
concerned in the seizure of the Robespierres, and in over- 
throwing that execrable tyranny. 

On the 1st Vindemaire (September 23d) another levee 
was held, at which Mr. Fox was present. The first 
consul was not more penetrating on this occasion than on 
the former, respecting lord Erskine. The ceremony was 
similar to that of the former levee. It was usual to invite 
those presented at a former one, to dinner on the subse- 
quent one. Mr. Fox on this occasion, therefore, dined 
with the first consul. I recollect well his return in the 
evening to the hotel de Richelieu : he said Bonaparte talk- 
ed a great deal, and I inferred at the time, that he who en- 
grossed the conversation in company with Mr. Fox, de- 
barred himself of much instruction, and did not feel his 
value sufficiently. Mr. Fox, however, was pleased, or I 
may say amused. After dinner, which was a short one, 
the first consul retired, with a select number, to Madame 
Bonaparte's apartments in the Thuilleries, where the rest 
of the evening was spent. Mr. Fox appeared to consider 
Bonaparte as a young man who was a good deal intoxicated 
with his success and surprising elevation, and did not 
doubt of his sincerity as to the maintenance of peace. He 
manifested some irritation against a part of Mr. Pitt's 
ministry, as having instigated and been privy to plots 
against his life, particularly that of the infernal machine, 
and actually named one individual whom he reproached 

with having aided it- the late Mr. Windham ! — Mr, 

^ox did every thing to discharge the mind of the first con» 
sul from such an idea, as far as his own positive contradic- 



200 

tion, and as his belief strongly expressed, could go, Bona- 
parte spoke a good deal of the possibility of doing away 
all difference between the inhabitants of the two worlds — 
of blending the black and the white, and having universal 
peace ! Mr. Fox related a considerable part of the even- 
ing's conversations, with which he was certainly much di- 
verted, but he had imbibed no improved impressions of 
the first consul's genius from what passed. 

For my part, I was quite satisfied with levees, and 
great dinners, and parties, and now looked with un° 
feigned delight to our departure for La Grange. 



CHAPTER XV 



ON the morning of the 24th ot September we left 
Paris for the country. There was nothing striking in 
that part through which we passed, formerly called the 
isle of France. As we approached La Grange, it became 
evidently a corn district. The towers and wood of the 
chateau appeared in peaceful repose as we drove near, and 
when we gained a full view of the building, I felt great 
emotion. It was the residence of a great and good man 
— a patriot and friend to mankind, whose life had beea 
consecrated to virtue and liberty. Such truly was M. de 
la Fayette. The chateau was of a very singular construc- 
tion, quadrangular, and ornamented by Moorish towers at 
each angle, which had no unpleasing effect. A ruined 
chapel was near the mansion : the fosse was filled up 
through neglect and a long lapse of time. We drove in- 
to ^he court-yard. The family came to the hall to meet 
us. That good and amiable family, happy in themselves, 
and rejoicing to see the illustrious friend of La Fayette ! 
Can I forget that moment ? No silly affectation — no airs 
of idle ceremony, were seen at the residence of him who 
gloriously and successfully had struggled for America^ 
and had done all he could for France ! 

2g 



202 

Ma de la Fayette and Madame received Mr. and Mrs. 
Fox with the heartiest welcome. The family consisted of 
two daughters, a son and his wife — all young and elegant 
— all living with M. de la Fayette, as their brother and 
friend. As his figure was youthful and graceful, (his age 
at this time being about forty-nine or fifty,) he appeared 
quite a young man. His benevolent countenance — the 
frank and warm manners, which made him quite adored 
in his family — and a placid contentedness, amounting to 
cheerfulness, altogether had an irresistible eifect in gaining 
the affections and esteem of those admitted to his more 
intimate society. 

Madame de la Fayette, of the ancient family of Noallles, 
was a superior and admirable woman, possessing the high 
polish of the ancien*; nobility, eloquent and animated.— 
Fondly attached to M. de la Fayette and her family, she 
regretted nothing of past splendor, she possessed a che- 
rished husband and was happy in retirement. M. de la 
Fayette's son was a pleasing young man ; his wife very- 
engaging and interesting; his daughters were charming 
young women,quite free from the insipid languor, or wretch- 
ed affectation, which, in young women of fashion, so much 
destroys originality of character, and makes one find in 
one fashionable young lady, the prototype and pattern of 
ten thousand. In a word, this amiable and most interest- 
ing family seemed united by one bond of affection, and to 
desire nothing beyond the circle of their tranquil man= 
sion. 

It is necessary to recur to some past events in M. de la 
Fayette's life, to do full justice to such a family. It is 
well known that M. de la Fayette had been arrested on 
leaving France, and thrown into the dungeons of Olmutz. 
He had continued imprisoned a considerable time, when 
Madame de la Fayette, unable to bear her separation from 
him, determined to make an effort for his liberty, or to 
share his fate, and set out for Germany with her young 



203 

and lovely children. At the feet of the emperor she im- 
plored his majesty to release her hufeband, or to allow her 
to participate in his confinement. Her first request was 
coldly refused ; she was, however, permitted to visit her 
husband. From that time, for several years, she never 
left him, herself and daughters sharing with him every in- 
convenience and misery ! The damps of his prison hurt 
the health of Madame, and she had never entirely recover- 
ed from their baneful effects : Bonaparte, to his honour it 
must he recorded, interposed as soon as he had power 
effectually to do so, and insisted on the liberation of M. 
de la Fayette. Accordingly, at the period of which I 
write, (1802) he had not long arrived in France, having 
come by way of Holland, with his virtuous and excellent 
family, the partners of his captivity, and soothers of his 
sorrows. 

The chateau and estate of La Grange, which Madame, 
who was an heiress, had brought him, was all that remain- 
ed of his fortunes : he had lost every thing besides, in the 
madness of revolutionary confiscation, and had not yet 
been able to procure restitution or compensation. To add 
to the interest of the scene, general Fitzpatrick, who had 
known M. de la Fayette in America, and had vainly at- 
tempted in the English house of commons to rouse the 
Pitt ministry to a sense of humanity and commiseration 
for M. de la Fayette, joined the party at La Grange. 
That accomplished man was an addition to it of the most 
pleasing nature, and he was received most affectionately by 
the family. I have often contemplated with pleasure, 
general Fitzpatrick and M. de la Fayette walking in a 
long shady grove near the chateau, speaking of past times, 
the war in America, and the revolution in France. The 
rare sight of three such men, as Fox, Fayette, and Fitz- 
patrick, was grateful to any one who felt rightly, and va- 
lued men for their services to humanity, rather than for 
successful ambition. /Lally Tollendal, also, whose father 
had, under the old regime, suffered so severe a fate, was 



at La Grange, an open, honest, and agreeable man — teilirig 
^ great number of anecdotes, relating to the revolution, 
with point and energy, and resembling the Irish in his 
good-humoured and unstudied manners ; anxious to con- 
tribute to the pleasure of M. de la Fayette's guests, and 
pointing out every thing agreeable to English customs and 
habits. In the evenings, he read extracts from Shake- 
spjeare, translated by himself into French, with an almost 
stentorian voice, and much effect. A few of M. de la 
Payette's country neighbours were also occasionally invi- 
ted ; his table was plentiful, and our evenings diversified 
by conversation, chess, or some other game, as was most 
agreeable. Madame was extremely pleasing in conversa- 
tion, and narrated her adventures, and sufferings in Ger- 
iniJBy, with great vivacity and ease. 

The chateau Itself was ancient, and simply furnished : 
the library, at the top of one of the towers, a circular 
room, with a commanding view from its windows, was 
adorned with thp busts of Washington, Franklin, and other 
distinguished American patriots, as well as by those of 
Frenchmen of genius in modern times. The wood, which 
adjoined the chateau, was a beautiful one, divided in the 
old style, by long green alleys, intersecting one another, 
admirably adapted for a studious walk, or for reading re- 
mote from noise. Here was a place to enjoy the sublime 
and eloquent writings of Rousseau; and here I was hap- 
py to lose all thought of Paris and the world, filled with 
the grateful sensation, that I was the guest of a man so 
excellent as La Fayette. I often, too, had the satisfaction 
of conversing with him, as he was so unaffected and mild, 
that I had no difficulty in addressing him '• he talked of 
Ireland^ and sir Edward Havershani, and inquired very 
much concerning the ancient wolf dog, one of which 
race (extinct I believe in France) he desired much to pro- 
cure. All his sentiments were noble, and his mind was 
animated with a true feeling for liberty. He spoke a good 
ileal of Americaj and told me. that so gr^eat was the jej\- 



205 

lousy of the Americans against foreign troops, that he was 
obliged to consent to reduce the number stipulated for, 
though he afterwards negotiated for more at home, to 
make the aid effectual ! Worthy and respectable man ! If 
I have seen you for the last time, my wishes for your re- 
pose, and my gratitude shall ever be alive. I shall ever 
dwell ^on your name with reverence and affection : and 
those delightful days I spent at La Grange, shall remain 
consecrated in my memory, as among the most fortunate 
and pleasing of my life. 

The political career of M. de la Fayette had not, it is 
true, the same happy result in France as in America ; but 
it is to be considered, that his situation in the former was 
arduous beyond measure. A friend to a limited mo* ar- 
chy, and to the legitimate rights of the people, at a time 
vhenthe support of one was deemed hostility to the other, 
he found it impossible, consistent with his principles, to 
fall into the mania of the nation. A king of integrity and 
firmness, with La Fayette as his counsellor, might have 
been safe, even in the tumultuous times preceding the sei- 
zure of the commonwealth, by sanguinary demagogues ; 
but Louis, it is to be feared, wanted both these qualities, 
certainly the latter ! La Fayette failed, therefore, in his pa- 
triotic views, not as the first consul is said to have insinuat- 
ed, because he attempted what was impracticable ; but be- 
cause those whose interest it was to second his views, and 
whose happiness would have been insured by them, did 
not support him. A ruined thone, and desolate country, 
subsequently attested the purity of his principles, and the 
soundness of his judgment. 

M. de la Fayette had begun to devote himself much 
to agricultural pursuits, (the happiest occupation of man !) 
and had entirely withdrawn himself from political affairs. 
His house and family were excellently well regulated ; 
each had their own employment ; till dinner, every guest 
'i?as left quite free to follow his studies — -to walk and ex- 



plore the country— to write— to act as he pleased — dinner 
reassembled every one; and the hours flew swiftly past. 
Mr. Fox was very happy at La Grange ; every thing suit- 
ed his taste there, and he had, besides, the gratification of 
seeing his friend, after a life of dangers, and years of cap- 
tivity, sheltered, at length, on the moderate estate of La 
Grange*— having all his family around him, and conscien- 
tiously satisfied that he had done every thing for his coun- 
try that his powers and opportunities had allowed. 

His garden, which was large, but had been neglected, 
also occupied a good deal of the attention of M. de la 
Fayette. He was in the mornings engaged in his farms, 
and enjoyed with much relish, the avocations of agricul- 
ture ! We remained a week at La Grange. I left it with 
great regret. The same kind and hospitable family bade 
us adieu; they lingered on the stair-case. We took 
leave of Madame. It was for the last time 1 That amiable 
woman, never having recovered her health, is since dead ; 
and the lovely chateau of La Grange stands deprived of 
its hospitable mistress. M. de la Fayette, in the year 
1803, sustained a dreadful fracture of his thigh bone, but 
recovered, and continues to reside in his retirement at La 
Grange. 



CHAPTER XVI. 



ON our return to Paris, we found rumours afloat of 
an unpleasant nature : Lord Whitworth had not arrived, 
but it was said that the first Consul was dissatisfied, and 
that a new rupture was likely to take place. This was 
whispered, but not credited. I heard, indeed, that the 
gross language of the English papers had afforded Bona- 
parte matter for irritation and complaint, and that every 
passage, relating to his government, was translated by 
his orders, and laid before him, but I did not consider 
such reports well founded, though I have since had reason 
to think they were. As yet, however, there was but a 
whisper, and whatever causes combined to renew hostili« 
ties between the two nations, it is heavily to be deplored 
that their true interests were not better understood, and 
such an event prevented. 

In thie close of the summer of 1802, the French gov- 
ernment seemed much inclined to be on good terms with 
England, and the people of France were certainly anxious 
that a good understanding, and harmony, should be re- 
stored between the nations. There was, on our first arri- 
val, a marked disposition on all sides to prefer and to dis- 
tinguish the jEnglish as a superior race of men. In pub- 



208- 

lie the English were admired and respected : the odious 
acts of Mr. Pitt's ministry were forgotten, and an amnesty 
in opinion appeared to be the predominant sentiment. 

The day succeeding our arrival frotn La Grange, we 
dined at Berthier's, the minister of war (now prince of 
Neufchatel.) The entertainment was splendid and strik- 
ing. Military trophies decorated the great stair- case, and 
the dining room was ornamented by busts of Dessaix, Hoche 
and two other generals, deceased. A number of military 
characters were present. Berthier, agreeable, active, 
and penetrating, seemed equally fit for war or the cabinet- 
Massena, about forty-five or six years of age, with keen 
and piercing small black eyes, strong make, a determined 
air, and lively motion, looked ready to seize his prey at 
all times, and not likely to relinquish it easily. Bougain- 
ville, the venerable circumnavigator of the globe, was at 
this dinner, and on seeing him, I rubbed my eyes and sus- 
pected We had gone back a century — his aspect was ve^ 
nerable and intelligent— Voi^ney the celebrated author of 
the ruins of empires, was also present — His countenance 
was quite intellectual — his person thin and tall — and his 
air altogether, and appearance, more interesting than that 
of any person among the French at Berthier's dinner. 
The form of invitation, a just remark, was quite agreea- 
ble to the republican style in date, designation of the year, 
and in title, " Republican Francaise," affixed to it. An 
A ustrian officer, in full regimentals, in the midst of the 
French officers at general Berthier's, was a striking and 
pleasant sight. After long and bloody wars, to behold 
brave men of nations, lately hostile, meeting in social con- 
verse, and forgetting all animosity, was one very agreea= 
ble fruit of peace. 

■^ As the season now advanced, Mr. Fox began to think 
of returning to England. Very little remained to be ex- 
plored at the archives. The elucidation of the material 
points was completed, and v/e were now to take leave of 



20§ 

Louis the XlVth and Barillon. Mr. Fox turned his 
thoughts towards home, as the place were his history 
couid best proceed, and he had obtained a great deal of 
valuable materials, to bring there with him. How 
much it is to be regretted that his designs were interrupt- 
ed, and that a fragment of that history only remains. 
From a recent examination of it, I cannot help again re- 
gretting that it appeared so soon, and prefaced in a mannef 
calculated to raise expectation, already too much on the 
stretch. 

In a conversation I had with the noble editor, he was 
of opinion in which I entirely concurred, that a few lines, 
stating the facts, and leaving the fragment for public con- 
sideration, was all that was required, as in the way of pre- 
face. That lord Holland subsequently changed this opi- 
nion, I shall ever regret. It was the spontaneous and ju- 
dicious idea of his own mind, and were it possible to hand 
the work down to posterity, according to that conception, 
it ought yet to be done. I have doubts whether Barillon's 
papers received a second reading and reconsideration 
by Mr. Fox, on returning to England, and I am strongly 
induced to think that his work would not have passed 
out of his hands before the public without it. Under these 
circumstances, any references of the editor were very dan- 
gerous. For instance, that to the letter of Louis the XI Vth, 
of the 24th of April, is not a corroboration of the history. 
I believe also, Mr. Fox, on further examination of those 
papers, would have modified the opinion expressed in the 
page to which that reference is affixed, and in page 107. 
The letter is a sort of conditional bond of Louis, or an 
explanation of the terms on which a sum of money was to 
be paid ; viz. if parliajnent were refractory, and required 
bribing, and if the king demanded the money from Barillon. 
The passage in the history stands thus — " Louis, secure 
in the knowledge that his views of absolute power must 
continue him (James) in dependence upon France, seems 
to have refused further supplies, and even, in somQ mea- 

2 D 



210 

sure, to have withdrawn those which had been stipulated, 
as a mark of his displeasure with his dependent for assum- 
ing a higher tone than he thought becoming." 

Now the particular letter of April the 24th does not 
shew Louis " secure ;" the beginning of it alludes to a 
threat of James, that he must concede to his parliament, 
if he does not get the money down ; Louis then, in a con- 
ditional manner mentioned, agrees that four hundred thou- 
sand livres should be paid to the king's ministers and dven 
sixteen hundred thousand remaining, are to be used in the 
same manner, if the parliament behave so ill as to require 
dissolution, or that the free exercise of the catholic re- 
ligion be so much prevented, that arms against his sub- 
jects must be used by James : he says that he must see 
an absolute necessity, in the refractoriness of parliament, 
before he gives great sums, but repeats that he allows the 
four hundred thousand livres to be paid : adding a threat 
of his displeasure if James presses too much. This was 
not refusing " further supplies," nor withdrawing- them, 
but it was withholding a part, and granting a part, which, 
was quite conformable to Louis's whole conduct, as to 
James, and denotes the reverse of being ^' secure." The 
simple state of the case appearing, that James threatened 
Louis with the parliament, and that Louis threatened 
James with not giving him money, that neither were se- 
cure of one another, and that this drama lasted till James 
deservedly lost his crown, and Louis his corrupt influence 
in England. My reasons, exclusive of this particular, 
and unfortunately-quoted letter, that Mr. Fox would have 
altered the opinion as to Louis's being " secure" as to 
James, are drawn from the letters of the French king, sub- 
sequent to that of the 24th of April, in almost all of which 
he testifies anxiety about James's forming alliances, and 
an apprehension that he might be induced to join a 
league for troubling the repose of Europe, as Louis pre- 
sumptuoqsly styled the thraldom in which he desired to 
}ceep it. With all his ostentatious z^rrogance to his owu 



^11 

ambassador*— his flourish (which was but a guess) to the 
duke of Villeroy, was compounded of cunning and vanity, 
and his affected contempt of James, I think it is manifest 
that he was afraid of him all through the latter part of the 
year 1685. James was a different subject for his manage- 
ment from Charles the II.— he had neither the same hold 
of him through his voluptuousness, or unprincipled facility 
— devoid of pride, as he had upon Charles. Accordingly, 
it appears from Barillon's and Louis's letters, that the 
foreign ministers had greater hopes of James, and they 
doubtless flattered his pride, as much as Louis plied his 
bigotry. In August and September, of the year 1685, 
James appears to have had fluctuations between the hon- 
our of his crown, and the corruptions of Louis. He was 
then deemed by the latter to incline to Holland, Spain, 
Brandenburg, and Austria : Barillon expressly writes, too., 
that the Austrian minister had great hopes as to his dis- 
positions : in November Louis writes, " J'apprends de 
toutes parts que le roy d'Angleterre, temoigne une grande 
disposition, a entrer dans toutes sortes d'engagemens con- 
traires a mes interests." Again, in the same month, he 
is apprehensive of his engaging in the interests of Austria, 
and desires Barillon to discover the true designs of the 
English king, going so far as to declare, that if he treats 
with other powers, he, Louis, will be glad of any difficul- 
ties his parliament may throw in his way. The letter of 
Louis, 19th November, 1685, is full of suspicion and mean 
malignity ; even inciting Barillon to stir up members of 
the commons against James, if he proves ungrateful to 
the French monarch. Barillon, in answer to this, ex- 
presses, towards the end of his letter, his difficulties in 
endeavouring to prevent foreign treaties, and not being 
allowed to settle on a subsidy with James : Louis cer- 
tainly, by such suspicious and jealous conduct, placed his 
ambassador ia a most perplexing situation ; who suggests 
a pension to lord Sutherland, as the only middle course, 
and Louis consents to this, on the ground that he, Suther- 
land, should prevent engagements contrary to the French 



212 



king's interest, shewing thereby that he was not at ail 
"secure" of James himself; and, indeed, in the same letter 
(ending the year 1685) he expresses a hope, that James 
will not hastily renew his treaty with Spain! James's 
apologies (History, p. 107) to Barillon, prove as much the 
necessity he felt of deceiving the French court, as they do 
dependence upon it. I cannot help being of opinion^ 
that Louis found him more unbending than he desired, 
and was disappointed and displeased by his conduct very 
much; hig expressions on the death of Charles, being 
those of strong disappointment, his fears of the " repose 
of Europe" being disturbed through James : his malig- 
nant intention of sowing divisions in parliament, his jeal- 
ous caution about money, and his resistance of all Baril- 
ion's advice, shew that he viewed the two brothers in very 
different lights, and apprehended that if James grew strong 
at home, he might ultimately turn his arms against France, 
and join in the general league. I trust, this digression 
may be the more readily pardoned, as the work I have un- 
dertaken is necessarily somewhat desultory ; as the candour 
of the illustrious author of the fragment would have been 
prompt, had he lived, to admit it, if his opinion had gone 
a little too far, as historic truth is of the most paramount 
value, and as I am sure the noble editor and the public 
will be glad to peruse suggestions, arising from a deep 
veneration for the departed, which may tend to excuse, or 
to account for, those slight imperfections unavoidably in- 
cident to a posthumous work never corrected, and not 
even prepared and reconsidered for publication. 

On the 6th of October, 1802, I accompanied Mr. Fox 
to the archives for the last time : we had been employed 
there about six weeks without material intermission. I 
shall not easily forget Mr. Fox walking up stairs, taking 
off his hat, and sitting down in our room, oppressed with 
heat and the fatigue arising from it; taking a few minutes 
to recover himself; and then applying with the same ar- 
dour and industry every day, copying, reading aloud the 



21S 

passages leading to any discovery, keeping his friends bu- 
sily employed, and always cheerful and active. After the 
day's labour had ended, Mr. Fox usually called at three, 
when we went to the museum, or some other place worthy 
of attention. But it is past, and those pleasant and in- 
structive labours are forever ended ! 

Previous to my leaving Paris, where Mr. Fox remain- 
ed a few 'weeks longer, under the expectation of meeting 
his brother, general Fox, I endeavoured to see as much as 
possible of it, which, as our work grew lighter at the close 
of September, became more practicable, without failing in 
that duty and grateful service, so deservedly due by me to 
the great man who had benevolently given me an opportu- 
nity so uncommonly effective of seeing this brilliant city, 
and ail its fascinating and extraordinary scenes. I have 
mentioned the stage— every theatre presented good actors. 
The Cid, Tancred, and other pieces, I saw represented 
admirably, at the theatre Francois. The smaller comic 
theatres were excellent : even that of the Jeunes Eleves, 
afforded specimens of acting, to have been admired, in any 
place but in Paris. The grand opera filled me with sen- 
sations of delight ; there the ballet is the most charming 
thing in the world — the gracefulness, beauty, and activity 
of the dancers— so many young females of different ages, 
modelled by the hands of the graces, were so fascinating a 
view, that the imagination, in recurring to Greece's most 
golden times, could scarce find a parallel, and might still 
more easily have lead the spectator to forget himself. 
Frescati, too, was a brilliant and singular spectacle; it was 
a handsome house with a pretty garden, thrown open to 
the public, and beautifully illuminated ; crowds of fashion- 
ables walked about here, paid nothing for admittance, but 
expended what they pleased for refreshment. Here I saw 
Madame Recamier, also, for the last time, surrounded 
and almost overpowered by a multitude of persons admi- 
ring her. The lovely phantom, breathing a thousand de- 
licious charms, yet flits before me ; and so ingenuous, and 



214 

unaffected ! shunning tlie ardent gaze, and if conscious of 
her dazzling beauty, unassuming and devoid of pride : rich 
at the first of female virtues, a kind and noble heart ! 

The Palais de Justice I was but able to look into : the 
lawyers pleading loud, garrulous, and vehement, stunned my 
ears ; they wanted what all lawyers in general want, modu- 
lation of voice, and gentleness of manner. There is some- 
thing, too, so insipid, if not revolting, in the arguments 
and details, belonging to ordinary litigation, that unless 
Paris had been destitute of every charm, I should not 
willingly have given much time, during our short stay, to 
listen to French lawyers . Notre Dame is venerable, but 
by no means magnificent ; the want of pictures makes it 
look very bare. The Pantheon is a grand building; the 
view from the top affords a beautiful panorama of Paris 
and its vicinity ; and, as the air is not loaded and darkened 
with coal smoke, every thing looks distinct and cheerful : 
in vaulted cavities beneath, cenotaphs to Voltaire and 
Rousseau were placed, one of the means of revolutionary 
mania ! 

The last day of my stay in Paris being one on which a 
levee was held, I went with Mr. Fox and some of his 
friends. It was a custom, rather than any remaining de- 
sire to behold the cold ceremonies and fatiguing pomp of 
the French court, which led me to the Thuilieries. Bona- 
parte's former question of etes vous catholique ? to me, 
when informed that I was an Irish gentleman, was not 
again repeated. I saw the same persons, the same apart- 
ments, the same grandeur. It may be very well, said I, 
inwardly, to those who barter happiness for the unreal 
gratifications arising from pride, avarice, and ambition; 
but I sicken at this repeated exhibition ; my heart feels no 
enjoyment here ; I am not sorry this is the last ; and so I 
thought of the dinners at Neuilly ; the labour of attending 
the great, of frequenting courts, and associating with nobles 
and courtiers, is not small. 



215 

^^Dulcis inexpertis cultura potentis amicl 
Expertus metuit." 

I took leave, however, of Madame Talleyrand (now 
princess of Benevento) with sincere regret ; that amiable 
woman had shewn feeling and unaffected good-nature; 
and in supporting her station, I had always found her at 
the same time affable without insipidity, gracious without 
affected condescension, and extremely attentive and kind 
in her manners to strangers. 



CHAPTER XVIL 



THE refiections and observations arising out of a 
residence of about two months in France and Paris, were 
often effaced by the variety and pressure of occupations, 
amusements, and pleasures. The society of Mr. Fox ab- 
stracted me from a great deal of the common life, and 
scenes so full of information for a stranger ; besides, the 
time was too short to allow that maturer consideration 
which follows the first tumult of ideas, and succeeds the 
amusements and pleasures of a new and extraordinary 
scene. France appeared, beyond measure, benefitted by 
the revolution. The very manners and dress of the in- 
habitants, recovered from republican rudeness and inele- 
gance, had assumed a better style, not so effeminate and 
foppish as in the old regime, and not so careless as in the 
republican period. 

Agriculture had improved immensely ; not a spot was 
neglected, and the peasants no longer groaned under partial 
burthens. The land divided into patrimonial, national, and 
church land, was of different purchase in value : the first 
a good deal the highest, the second, or emigres landj was^ 



217 

at a great distance from Paris, very low, and the third 
was nearly as high as the first. The unpleasant idea of the 
return of an emigre, the old and lawful owner, though not 
any doubt of the security of the government, made the 
second sell at a low price. The almost total change of 
property has rendered the new government very secure ; 
the flight of the emigres, and the external threatening of 
foreign powers, irrevocably confirmed the revolution. It 
is amusing (let this idea be extended) to look into Europe, 
and observe also the wonderful change of property be- 
tween, and in different states, Germany, Italy, Switzer- 
land, the Tyrol, Dalmatia, Venice, Sec. &c. and if we 
then calmly consider the language of Pittite ministers, 
speaking of a deliverance, on restoring of Europe, we 
must think that they have strangely forgot the nature and 
qualities of property, to expect to force things back, or 
that they speak but to deceive. The internal trade of 
France appeared flourishing, and they hailed with great 
satisfaction, rich foreigners coming amongst them* 

The general police is extremely good ; Paris at all times 
of the evening and night, was admirably regulated ; no 
noise, rioting, or intoxication, was known ; at eleven, the 
streets seem quite quiet, and no person, even of the lower 
orders, to be seen. It was impossible not to feel the gene- 
ral douceur and politeness of manners, pervading every 
class, and everywhere smoothing the path of life. The 
Irish and Scotch mixed much more easily with the French 
than the English, and spoke their language better too ; 
the former were much respected on the continent, as 
belonging to an ancient, and once renowned nation. The 
Englishman, seldom leaving his country till his habits are 
all formed, afterwards finds repugnance to unbend himself, 
to accommodate his manners to those of foreigners, or to 
mould the organs of speech to their language ; the ele- 
gance and taste of foreigners, do not compensate to him 
for his want of comfort at home. He makes philosophic 
remarks, but does not act philosophically»«~he reasons 

2 E 



21^ 



strongly, but his practice is unwise — ^in fine, he travels 
with less advantage than others, and often returns with no 
other acquisition than his prejudices confirmed. I speak 
in general ; the English nobility, and gentlemen of fortune 
and good education, are the most polished and dignified 
class of men in Europe. 

I had often heard the French accused of insincerity, 
but I never met with any thing to countenance the idea. 
I found them highly capable of friendship, full of feeling, 
and very discriminating. The French are much addicted 
to amusement, it is true, and it may, perhaps, be said to 
weaken their character in some degree ; but, if the short- 
ness of life, the superfluous and additional cares heaped 
on it by narrow and brooding minds, be rightly consider- 
ed, perhaps, there will be found much wisdom and philo- 
sophy in gilding the hours of life, as much as we can, con- 
sistently with a care of our families, and regard to the 
improvement of our minds. In society, the French are 
eminently pleasing, and the women, in point of elegance, 
vivacity, and penetration, seem calculated to render the 
life of man a happy dream, in which he discovers flowers 
at his feet, and a fragrant air continually around him. It is 
vain to attempt to do justice to the graces of their conver- 
sation. They very much resemble my own country- women^ 
the Irish ladies, in feeling, and a nice attention to the 
wants of their guests. 

The government was too recently established when I 
was in France to decide what eifect it had upon the people. 
There is no doubt that the shaking off" the old despotism 
has invigorated, beyond measure, the French nation. It 
will take a long time, (and the wiser the monarchs of the 
new regime, the longer it will be) before the corruption 
and profligacy too often inherent in old governments, will 
take a strong root, flourish, and overshadow the state. If 
it be said that it is a despotism, it may also be replied, 
that it is a dictatorship, established in a time of critical 



^19 

emergency, and that the people's preservation required a 
strong and absolute government ! The taxes were very- 
high, but they were equally imposed in 1802 — there were 
no reversions or sinecures — or old pensions — the govern- 
ment was loaded by no debt, and the state, with the vigour 
of youth, and the benefit of experience, was starting for- 
ward, in a career whose consequences and results could 
not easily be calculated. There was evidently now not only 
a commencement of a new government, but of a new era 
of things : the radical change had been so great, that it 
might be said, as of a new order of things rising up, 

*' Jura maglstratusque legunt, sanctumque senatuiri. 
Hie portus alii effodunt: hie altatheatris 
Fundemanta loeaut alii, immanesque columnas 
Rupibus excidunt, scenis decora alta futuris, 
Qualis apes sestate nova per florea regna 
Exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos 
Educunt foetus ; aut cum liquentia mella 
Stipant, et dulcidistendunt nectare cellas; 
Aut onera accipiunt venientium ; aut, agmine facto, 
Ignavum fucos pecus a prsssepibus arcent." 

It was manifest that though the new government might( 
not afford all that sanguine persons, and ardent lovers of 
liberty, might desire, that it presented a refuge from the 
tumult and blood of preceding times, of an acceptable na- 
ture. The laws were very much simplified, and therefore 
improved, the old code having become dreadfully complex, 
and magnified. As to crimes, I observed that punishments 
of four, live, seven, ten, or fifteen years imprisonment, 
were decreed for great offences ; but capital punishments 
themselves were rarely inflicted. The constitution of the 
government itself offered nothing pleasing to those habitu- 
ated to admire the advantages of the British constitution; 
but it possessed great energy, and in a period of great 
importance to the French nation, threatened, as it had been, 
with annihilation, and placed in the unnatural and feverish 
situation of working through its own salvation, at the ex- 
pense of ruined monarchies, and Europe's stijpendous 



£20 

changes^ the people had been induced to think, that the 
government, ever absolute of one man, was called for, 
since all others had been tried, and had failed. The seve- 
rity and suspicions of the new government were natural 
to it, in common with all others so circumstanced : 
jealousy and vindictiveness, though shocking at all times, 
yet in such a government were incidental to its nature, 
and were connected with its self-preservation. The temple 
where Louis had been confined, was now used for state 
prisoners : many were immured there — many transmitted 
from thence in a private manner, and often by night. That 
unfortunate king, (whose death w^as by no means so digni- 
fied as has been represented, as he struggled much, and 
died with great pusillanimity,) had rendered this building 
interesting, and I always passed it with feelings of sorrow 
for the past, and of indignation for the present. The tem- 
ple was the state prison, and w^s constantly full. I left 
Paris with no pleasing impression of this government, 
however, and regretting that an arbitrary regime had been 
the resuk of a revolution, which had cost the people so 
much misery and so much blood; though I was not pre- 
pared to say that, persecuted as France had been, and con- 
verted into a military nation, as she had been for her own 
preservation, any thing else could have been expected. 

I took leave of Mr. and Mrs. Fox with sincere regret. 
Their friendship had procured me every gratification in 
France. Whatever was pleasing and delightful I owe to 
their kindness : they contributed in every way to make 
any young friend under their roof happy. There was no 
constraint so imposed. Our life at the hotel de Riche- 
lieu and at St. Anne's Hill, was as far as possible similar: 
early hours, a small, well regulated family; harmony, peace, 
and happiness. In Mr. Fox a constant disposition to bring 
every one forward advantageously; the same desire to 
listen and encourage; in short, the same steady and lively 
friendship in Paris as in England; the same magnanimous 
]n^Wcxtnce for power and its attractions; the same love for 



221 

poetry, the arts, and all the efForts of genius; the same 
warm remembrance of all his friends, the same love for 
England, and attachment for home, distinguished him in 
the great metropolis of the continent, as in the rural walks 
of St. Anne's Hill. I left Paris with a great deal of sor- 
row; but the excellent and beloved inhabitants of the 
hotel de Richelieu, occasioned the greatest share of it : in 
leaving them behind, I felt that I left every thing deserv- 
ing to be valued, honoured, and loved. I left them! and 
the diligence, into which I stepped, soon removed me from 
the brilliant scenes of Paris, and the far more cherished 
society of invaluable friendship. 

Three years passed over before I rejoined Mr. Fox; 
bound to him by ties of gratitude, affection and esteem, I 
had conceived, as my dearest, though melancholy hope, 
that I might, at the last awful hour, be allowed to render 
him the services which such a man deserved so truly from 
any one honoured by his regard. That hope was fulfilled 
much sooner than I imagined. This great man was too 
soon taken from this mortal scene, for the happiness of 
his friends, and the welfare of his country. In my suc- 
ceeding pages I shall present an imperfect sketch of hia 
latter days, anxious as I am to present his character, in 
that melancholy period, in the undisguised garb of truth 
and simplicity ; no more is necessary for throwing a lustre 
round it, if not as powerfully bright, yet more mildly ra- 
diant than that of his happiest days. 



END OF THE TOUR TO PARIS 



PABTn. 



*1|...A 



PART II 



CHAPTER L 



IN the commencement of the year 1806, after the 
demise of Mr. Pitt, there existed a pretty strong sentiment 
in the nation, but a great deal more powerful one among 
certain parties, that a combination of rank, talent, and po- 
pularity, was imperiously required to support the state* 
The nation wanted a great man, unshackled and decisive 
at its head, to remedy, as far as might be possible, past 
errors, and to infuse a wholesome spirit of economy and 
temperate views into the political body. Party wanted a 
leader. Unfortunately circumstances had concurred to 
cause lord Grenville and Mr. Fox to act together. Thus 
there were two leaders of one heterogeneous party, and the 
introduction of both into his majesty's councils, was 
deemed to be indispensably requisite. 

I am much inclined to think that Mr. Fox had deter- 
mined to devote himself to history, previous to Mr. Pitt's 
death -, nor do I think that event would have altered his 

2 F 



226 

intentions, unless the voice of the people, reaching the 
throne, had concurred in seeing placed at the head of the 
ministry, a friend to the just equilibrium between regal 
authority and popular rights, a man of commanding genius 
and extensive knowledge. Assailed, however, by persua- 
sion, and willing to sacrifice his own opinions for the good 
of his country, his judgment and feelings gave way, and 
he consented to take a part in the ministry in conjunction 
with lord Grenville^ 

He could not be ignorant that such a ministry was un» 
stable. The basis was without foundation. Even the 
superstructure was Pittite, to which Mr. Fox lent the 
sanction and grace of his illustrious name. It is not im- 
probable that the court unobstructed by lord Grenville and 
his friends, might have determined on placing Mr. Fox at 
the helm of affairs. Certain it is, that his admission to the 
sole management of the government, or his rejection^ 
would have benefitted the cause of the people. The one 
would have permitted him to select honest and enlight- 
ened men for every department, and to have restored their 
just weight to the people. The other would have placed 
him on so high an elevation in public opinion, that no 
ministry formed afterwards, could long have withstood the 
nation's indignation, or if they did, Mr. Fox's great name 
would have so strengthened the popular cause, that ulti- 
mately it must have triumphed : a triumph that excellent 
character might have lived to witness, or have left as s 
bequest to posterity, of no common value» 

'" In the years 1803 and 1804, he appeared daily grow- 
ing fonder of St. Anne's Hill, and to covet less the busi- 
ness of the house of commons. My wonder is, that he 
could have endured it so long : had he been educated less 
for the views of political warfare, he would earlier have 
thought of abandoning it. The idea of a junction between 
Mr. Fox and Mr. Pitt, shortly before the latter's decease^ 
proves to me that the Pitt system was tottering^ and requi- 



22? 

red aid ; it was a falling house, seeking for a new partner^ 
and hoping to preserve credit by a new name. By such a 
junction Mr. Fox would have lost, the latter would 
have gained every thing,- perhaps his hope, and object in 
coining into power, may fairly be considered as peace. 

Early in February 1806 the new ministry, with Mrc 
Fox and lord Grenville at their head, were called to his 
majesty's councils, and as he wished to place me near him- 
self, he required me to join him the day after he had re- 
ceived his majesty's commands. I left Ireland with no 
sanguine hopes that a ministry thus constituted could 
render much service to these countries, and particularly 
to Ireland. Lady Moira, whose name and character is 
deserving of equal admiration and respect, previous to my 
leaving Dublin, distinctly pointed out to me the impossi- 
bility of the ministry existing long, unless a total change 
in all the minor departments took place, and predicted 
exactly what happened, in case such regeneration was not 
carried into effect. All her hopes were founded on Mr. 
Fox ; superior even to her son in genius, and inferior to 
no one in patriotism and the love of mankind, she found 
in Mr. Fox, the kindred of the soul— dignified in manner 
and deportment, of an unbounded comprehension, warm 
in her affections, and constant in friendship, viewing the 
business of government in its general bearings, and in de- 
tail with a powerful penetrating eye, a patriot in the very 
best sense of the word, because she preferred adhering to a 
distressed and degraded country, before the lures of gran- 
deur, and the gratification of the society of her connex- 
ions among the English nobility; mistress of history, and 
wonderfully well versed in all the turns of the human 
heart, compassionate to the miserable, possessing eminent 
powers in conversation, always serene and commanding, 
often witty in the most delightful manner, devoid of 
vanity, and if she had pride, it was a pride of the most 
ennobling nature, raising her to every excellence, and 
never betraying her into contempt or rudeness to others,. 



228 



This accomplished, and truly noble woman, felt the dan- 
ger and the importance of the crisis of the beginning of 
1806, and saw with a prophet's foresight, and a patriot's 
grief, the irretrievable errors which would spring from 
the destruction of a ministry, of which Mr. Fox was at 
the head, and the long train of calamities hanging over 
these countries, in the event of a restoration of the Pittite 
system, and the triumph of its adherents. In particu* 
lar, lady Moira impressed on my mind the necessity of a 
radical change in Ireland ; it was the country of her adop- 
tion, to it she had consecrated a long and most useful life 
c — in it, she had determined to breathe her last — and now, 
wavering on the confines of mortality, she was endeavour- 
ing to convey to Mr. Fox, through me, the admonitions 
of an incomparable friend, full of anxiety for his fame, 
of maternal yearnings for the prosperity of Ireland, she 
was the guardian spirit exerting itself before it winged its 
flight to a better world, for the benefit of the friends of 
liberty, of her chosen country, and of mankind. Disdain- 
ing every religious distinction, forgetting the narrow con- 
cerns of worldly beings, full of solicitude for their happi- 
ness and prosperity, which she knew her declining life 
would not permit her to participate in, she earned im- 
mortality by her last action, and in aiming at co-operation 
with Fox, she showed at once the grandeur of her mind, 
the justness of her views, and the excellence of her heart* 

It is not my intention to attempt even an outline of Mr* 
Fox's ministry, but to confine myself chiefly to those things 
personal and peculiar to himself. Lady Moira's testimo- 
ny I have cited, to show that admirable woman's intuitive 
view of things, how rightly she had conceived that the dif- 
ficulties of the new ministry would spring from Ireland, 
and that the most enlightened persons in that country 
considered the ministry unstable, unless a total change of 
system was introduced there.* 

* 1 saw lady Moira after Mr. Fox's death ; she received me with great kind- 
ness, but great emotior), — she took me by the hand as 1 addressed her, " We 
Jiay^ lost every thing," said she ; " that great man was a guide for them £^1!." 



229 



The Irish nation, of which the great majority so much 
exceed the numbers of the settlers, that it may be justly 
styled and deemed a catholic one, and must yet take its 
place in Europe as one, when England is taught wisdom 
by adversity, at this period, was full of the most sanguine 
hopes, from the sole consideration of Mr. Fox, who was 
ever much beloved, by having consented to stand at the 
head of the ministry ; the repeal of the union, the ca- 
tholic emancipation, of course, and the establishment of a 
liberal and conciliating system in all things, danced before 
their warm imaginations. 

Before I left Ireland, I dreaded their disappointment, 
I doubted Mr. Fox's competence to gratify them. — I knew 
his opinion of the union — adverse to its principle, because 
Fox was the friend of liberty — unfavourable to it, also, on 
account of the baseness of the means of accomplishing it ; 
but, also, strong upon the difficulty of rescinding it ; I 
foresaw that, joined with lord Grenville, his measures 
must be shackled, and his grand views for Ireland and the 
empire, be much impeded. Already, too, I saw with pain 
a mixed system appearing — -the attorney and solicitor 
generals of a Pittite ministry in Ireland retained, and 
Mr. Curran, a man whose splendid exertions at the 
Irish bar, in defence of the subject, deserved reward from 
a Foxite ministry, as yet unnoticed, and placed in a pain- 
ful situation, before the eyes of the people ; the most in- 
veterate unionists, and adherents of the Pittite system, 
not dismayed, and preparing to hold their ground by ma- 
nagement and solicitation, through channels upon which 
they depended. As I took my leave of lady Moira, I 
mingled my apprehensions and fears with her's — we both 
shuddered at the idea of failure or discredit attaching to 
Mr. Fox's ministry, and concurred in thinking that the 
cause of liberty would receive an irreparable blow, if he 
was induced, or persuaded into compromising too much. 

The tears rolled in torrents down her venerable cheeks ; " he was their great 
support, and now there is nothing cheering in the prospect. Forme, 1 have 
siearly run my cQurse, — I shall remain hut a little longer, Ijut others will suffe? ? 
'.he loss of Fox is irreparable," 



230 

under the specious idea of an union of parties, with old, 
and well known enemies to it. I have dwelt upon this 
Irish subject the more, because every year succeeding 
has shewn me that such opinions were not less correct than 
they were important. On my leaving Ireland, some me- 
morials from persons having suffered unjustly, as they 
alleged, were put into my hands, for Mr. Fox and lord 
Moira, of which I shall speak presently. 

On arriving in London, I found IJ^r. Fox looking re- 
markably well, and without any appearance of the cruel 
disorder which so soon attacked him. He was now the great 
minister of state, but he was still the same amiable, do- 
mestic character, and the same sincere warm friend. He 
looked peculiarly animated when I first saw him ; his air 
was dignified and elevated, and there was more of majesty 
in his whole appearance than I had ever beheld in any one | 
his expressive countenance was full of intellectual fire, and 
beamed with a softened grandeur, in a manner that filled me 
ivith a new sensation of grateful veneration for this illus- 
trious man. After a long and glorious struggle against 
an arbitrary ministry, he was now at the head of his ma« 
jesty's councils. Calumny, so long and so actively em- 
ployed, sickened at the view ; his majesty's better and 
unperverted judgment, had selected the most enlightened 
man in his dominions, the friend of the people, and the 
supporter of a limited monarchy, and placed him in the 
situation so long abused by an arrogant man, whose im- 
perious temper had trenched even upon the feelings of 
royalty itself : the haughtiness of an ambitious and arbi- 
trary mind was supplied by a powerful, conciliating, 
and extensive genius ; there were a thousand Pitts : office 
and power easily make active, indefatigable, and lordly mi- 
nisters ! But it is the hand of Providence which, according 
to its wise, but inscrutable designs, bestows on nations 
benevolent, sagacious, and genuine statesmen. 

In Fox his majesty at length saw the great shield of the 
country, and by calling him into the cabinet, on the demise 



231 

of Mr. Pitt, gave a proof that he had been held in thral- 
dom by the overbearing minister, whoy it may truly be 
said, could bear no rival near the throne. There was 
much greatness of mind in the venerable monarch, who 
thus rose above the long system of delusion practised 
against him, and he proved himself thereby both the lover 
of his people, and also the ultimate approver of Mr. Fox's 
political career. With such an adviser, he now perceived 
America would have been unalienated. Great Britain un- 
burthened, and France of just dimensions and moderate 
power. Afflicted as the father of his people now unhap- 
pily is, bowed down with years and infirmity, it is a 
consolation to his family, and satisfaction to those who 
sincerely venerate him, that, with his faculties un- 
clouded, and his health unimpaired, he chose Charles 
James Fox as his minister, instead of continuing the sys« 
tern of Mr. Pitt. 

Had lord Grenville and his friends been thrown aside^ 
much more would have been effected, but party was too 
strong for the monarch, and the genius of Fox was thus 
cramped, thwarted, and counteracted. 

The department for foreign affairs, at the head of which 
Mr. Fox was placed, required all his attention. The map^ 
of Europe presented a chaos to his view, out of which he 
was to bring order, peace, and security. The floating 
fragments of a shipwreck were to be collected and com- 
bined. The gigantic power, which embraced the continent 
in its iron grasp, was to be bounded and restrained. The 
world required a master-hand to readjust and repair its 
parts. Vulgar minds might for a while continue the ob- 
stinate course of attempting to regulate that world by war, 
but Mr. Fox knew too well, that a series of defeated coali- 
tions, like unsuccessful conspiracy on a smaller scale, 
serves to strengthen the object attacked, and that the time 
was long past for correcting, by arms, the excessive power 
of France. He desired to make peace, but even that wa& 
become a matter of infinite difficulty. Thus he received 



235 



power, succeeding a predecessor, who had carried on war 
till no object remained, and till peace seemed to be almost 
as dangerous as the continuation of war. Mr. Fox was 
well aware of all his difficulties, and he made the greaiest 
sacrifice that man could make, for the good of his country, 
by consenting to attempt to repair the shattered vessel of 
the state. 

I soon perceived him in a new light. He was begin- 
ning to apply to the business of his office. He went gene- 
rally at eleven, and staid till three : as long as his health 
continued good, he was active, punctual, and attentive in 
the highest degree. The foreign office now appeared in 
a different light from its semblance of an office under Mr. 
Pitt. That minister who dictated almost every thing, had 
latterly brought government to the shape of an arbitrary 
regime, and left the person, called foreign minister, little 
to do but copy despatches. Mr. Fox gave that office a 
soul, and foreign courts soon felt that an accomplished 
minister and states.man wrote the dispatches, sent to the 
English ambassadors abroad. His majesty, who was al- 
ways extremely regular and punctual in the discharge of 
his own high duties, also perceived a difference, and said 
" that the office had never been conducted in such a man- 
ner before," and expressed much satisfaction at Mr. Fox's 
mode of doing the business. This testimony was the 
more striking and valuable, as his majesty never caused 
delay himself in that department ; the dispatches transmit- 
ted to, and laid before him, were uniformly returned with 
a punctuality deserving every praise, worthy of imitation, 
and highly becoming the first magistrate of the state. 

As his under secretaries were quite new in office, Mr* 
Fox directed and modelled every thing himself at first. 
His dispatches were allowed, by every one in the^ffice, 
even by those who had grown old there, to be models of 
composition, far excelling every thing of the kind in it from 
times long back : they certainly had every claim to praise 
—clear, comprehensive, and conciliating, and strong, they 



2$S 

were worthy of the pen of the minister of a great natioilj 
shewing great knowledge of human nature — avoiding any 
thing like dictating, consulting the feelings and dignity o£ 
every court to which he sent instructions^ full of energy 
and grandeur of mind, and calculated to create new sensa- 
tions, and a new era upon the continent* 

Shortly after my arrival, I could not but feel a strong 
sentiment, and a very peculiar one, on going in his coach 
to the foreign office with Mr. Fox and sir Francis Vincent^ 
one of the under secretaries, as we passed a regiment of 
the guards returning from parade : an excellent minister^ 
and benignant man was now at the head of affairs, the mi- 
litary passing shew was no longer formidable. I felt as- 
sured that under Mr. Fox no standing army would be 
employed against the people's liberties ; the music of the 
regiment sounded more sweetly, the soldiers appeared more 
respectable, the idea of military coercion vanished, and, 
for the first time in my life, I looked with complacency 
upon that part of the system of modern governments* 

This day I recollect sir Francis Vincent, who was a very 
assiduous and very respectable young man, but who did 
not at all comprehend the delicacy and grandeur of Mr. 
Fox's character, began to talk of foreign politics, and 
quoted M. Gentz as authority. Mr. Fox made no reply. 
I ventured to say, that I did not think Gentz, or people of 
that stamp, entitled to much weight. " Certainly," said 
Mr. Fox, very quietly, and almost under his breath. Sir 
Francis had been a lawyer, and carried with him a good 
deal of the profession; and, attentive to srtiall matters, 
proud of overcoming little difficulties, anxious to obtain 
his superior's approbation, but very little qualified to appre- 
ciate the mind of Mr. Fox. He was, however, good- 
natured in his way, always in a hurry, and ready to wear 
out a hundred pair of shoes to oblige the secretary of state 
for foreign affairs. 

2 ^ 



^34 



Mr. Fox went to court in all the simplicity of a plaia 
dress. " He does very well," said a young friend of mine, 
who was quite a courtier, and one of the gentlemen Exon 
who attended upon the king, " but it is terrible that he does 
not put powder in his hair." I said, with a smothered 
smile, very gravely, " it is not so well." " If any one would 
advise him," rejoined the young courtier, "if his friends 
would speak to him." This young man saw not the 
resplendent greatness of the character of Mr. Fox, or he 
thought only of the want of powder in his hair. 

My readers may recollect an anecdote of general Du' 
mourier, which resembles this. Roland, as minister of 
the interior, went to the court of Louis. — " My God ! Sir," 
said a courtier to the general, " he has strings in his shoes !" 
Good heavens ! Sir," said Dumourier, " is it so ? — we are 
ruined." In truth, no one was ever more unaffected, or 
more thoroughly disdained the pomp, or ceremonies of 
courts, than Mr. Fox. He was, however, pleased with 
the king's reception of him, and he uniformly appeared to 
me the whole subsequent time he was in office, full of just 
respect for his majesty, attentive to his wishes, and anxious 
to conduct matters in the office, so as to merit the continu- 
ance of his approbation. 

The introduction of Mr. Fox so late into his majesty's 
council's, may be thought to have occasioned some embar- 
rassment between the monarch and his patriotic and neg- 
lected minister. Nothing of this kind, however, took place. 
The sovereign possessed too much dignity and elevation of 
mind, to adopt any party animosity, and the minister felt 
too profound a respect for his royal master, and too much 
veneration for monarchy itself, not to approach the royal 
presence in a manner worthy of himself and of the king. 
Every thing passed, therefore, in the most agreeable and 
gracious manner, and I was thereby convinced, that a fac- 
tion had long abused the monarch's ear, or had been cri- 
minally silent, in regard to the transcendant qualities of 
Mr. Fox. His majesty was a remarkably good judge of 



235 



the qualifications of his ministers ; he expected punctuality, 
despatch, and vigour; and he knew perfectly well when he 
was properly served. It has been supposed, and I believe 
with good reason, that his former minister, Mr. Pitt, had 
become obnoxious to the sovereign, by his haughty man- 
ners, and his monopolizing exercise of power : but Mr. 
Fox was a character quite the reverse ; and by fair deduc- 
tion, naturally more agreeable as a minister to a crowned 
head. I understood that Mr. Fox never deviated from 
that respectful and dutiful manner becoming the minister 
of a great sovereign, and that he was very likely to have 
secured his majesty's favour as an amiable man, as well as 
his consideration as an enlightened and great statesman, 
if illness had not intervened and finally snatched him from 
the world. Mr. Fox's loss was peculiarly felt in the cabi- 
net on the affair of the catholic bill, forced on the king by 
lord Grey (then lord Howick) and lord Grenville. The 
candid and undisguised manners of Mr. Fox would have 
precluded all mistake in such a business : his majesty and 
such a minister would at once have understood each other. 
The monarch's character was always firm and decisive; 
Mr. Fox's was not less so, and a dislike of half measures 
marked both. From the time of Mr. Fox's entering the 
cabinet, in 1806, till his illness, his majesty had never oc- 
casion to testify disapprobation: with his mode of conduct- 
ing a negotiation he was much pleased : his despatches ob- 
tained even his majesty's admiration, (as of official writing 
there was no bttter judge) and there can be little doubt 
that with such a minister of foreign aflfairs, the name of 
the sovereign and of Great Britain, (had he been spared) 
would have risen to great and proud estimation abroad. 

Nothing demonstrates more plainly the decision and 
manliness of Mr. Fox's character, than his conduct to the 
catholics of Ireland on coming into office in 1806. He 
did not flatter them with any hope of immediate, nor did 
he insult them by any offer of partial, relief. His dutiful 
feelings to a venerable sovereign, preventing him fron? 



236 



rudely intruding matters upon him, on which it was un- 
derstood he had a fixed and strong opinion. He, there- 
fore, suggested to the catholics, calmness and patience, in 
shape of a moderate delay; but added, that if they them- 
selves brought forward their question, he would support it 
fully, even though he went out of office on that account. 
The catholics relied upon him, and did not press their 
question. Nor would that confidence have been abused, 
■which they reposed in him. In the year 1806, he hinted 
to me, something relating to the test act in respect to 
Ireland, which I have lately considered a good deal. 
JLate events have shewn me that this great man took a 
stronger and deeper view of their case, than many of the 
catholics themselves do. I am quite sure that body have 
lost in him more than they were, or are even yet aware 
of. The revolution of 1688, which may be considered as 
a sort of confirmation of the Reformation in the time of 
Henry the Vlllth, seems to present weighty and serious 
obstacles to the manner of catholic emancipation, since, 
by the act of union, it has become an English question. 
In suggesting to my catholic countrymen, (which I have 
lately publicly done,) the due consideration of the revo- 
lution in 1688, 1 have but followed the steps, as far as my 
judgment enabled me, of Mr. Fox. Lord Eldon, who 
always appears to me to speak like an honest man, has 
lately alluded to this revolution, and I considered his 
speech as the more worthy of attention, because Mr. Fox 
had himself difficulties and doubts on the precise mode 
and measure of catholic relief, under the union. Let 
men take a manly and definite view of things. I acknow- 
ledge that vague and long declamations, however beauti- 
ful or sublime, do not satisfy me, on the great catholic 
question. The parties ought to explain : one side should 
declare what they require, precisely, and the other should 
state the obstacles, and the quantity which would satisfy, 
in case of their removal. Otherwise, it appears to me 
the catholics may be in the situation of the person waiting 
till the river ceases to flow. 



237 

fT__».xiusticus expectat d«im deflaat amnis," Sec/ 

On a late remari;ahle occasion in the Irish metropolis, 
I scorned to dehide my valued countrymen with unde- 
fined expectations : it was due to Mr. Fox's great name, 
and to myself, to call their attention to the points upon 
which he had difficulties. I wished them to imitate his 
decision, in marking definitely their just claims, thereby, 
as well aiding their friends, and refuting their enemies, 
as also admittin^r^stant Irish gentleman to a distinct 
knowledge of tlM plan, which, as Irishmen co-operating 
with them, they had a right to ask for. Mr. Fox saved 
Ireland in 1806 from the suspension of the Habeas Corpus, 
and had he lived, the insurrection and disarming bills 
would have been, in like manner, averted ! How noble 
was that mind which, in an English breast, felt and acted 
more for Ireland's liberty and welfare, than numbers of 
Irish public characters have done since the act of union ! 
How truly different from Mr. Pitt, who followed the 
steps of lord Strafford in his treatment of that country, 
rather than the practices of an enlightened and wise 
statesman ! 

The pressure of business upon Mr. Fox, at his coming 
into office, was quite overwhelming. He assured me, that 
the servants were knocked up with fatigue, that the door 
was perpetually assailed by visitors of every description 
and rank. What '.an effect has power on the minds of men, 
how does it impart every virtue and remove every stain ! 
Mr. Fox, at times the object of scorn and neglect, but 
always, in the eye of the discerning, the first man in the 
nation, was now exalted, beyond measure, in the opinions 
of men, and it was thought possible he might make as, 
good a minister as Mr. Pitt. I, too, found myself after- 
wards courted and caressed by persons who now do not 
know or care if I exist. Such are men, and so illusive 
and deceitful are the charms of power. As soon as the 
£rst pressure of general bu^^iness and private importu-'-^* 



nitv 



238 

was past, Mr. Fox began to plan little holiday intervals 
of going to St. Anne's Hill, with a redoubled relish for 
that beloved spot. 

As soon as I could obtain a proper moment of leisure, 
I did not fail to express to Mr. Fox my uneasiness at the 
situation of Ireland. I also laid before him a memorial 
from an Irish catholic gentleman," who had suffered by 
severe and very unmerited imprisonment. Mr. Fox was too 
much oppressed by business to attend minutely to such 
things, but had not illness intervened, his heart would have- 
led him to every thing humane. 

On leaving Ireland, I had understood that the general 
feeling of the catholics was to do nothing whatever to 
embarrass Mr. Fox. There was something so generous 
and almost romantic in this determination, that my esteem 
and affection for my countrymen were heightened. It 
was a novel incident in politics, that above three millions 
of men should rest under their grievances, almost wnth 
pleasure ; and with all the confidence of the warmest 
friendship, rely upon one man for protection and redress ; 
that they should stifle their groans, and, adjusting their 
chains, be careful that not one clink should disturb him 
in his great work of restoring peace to the world, and of 
preparing a system of home policy, capable of communi- 
cating happiness, and strength, and liberty, to the British 
isles ! Such a sublime proof of disinterested attachment in 
the Irish catholics, could not but impress every friend 
of Mr. Fox with gratitude. Impressed with a lively sense 
of the value of Ireland, I stated to Mr. Fox the necessity 
of immediate and effectual steps to relieve her : that the 
magistracy had been degraded by the introduction of im- 
proper subjects ; that, though the Catholics had great 
veneration and even affection for him, they could not be 
expected to be devoid of natural feelings common to all 
men ; and though under his ministry they were inclined 
not to press, their generosity and abandonment of them- 



239 



selves for a time, deserved every thing, and that every 
ultimate bad consequence was to be apprehended for the 
empire, if the general state of Ireland viras not redressed. 
As I felt sincerely and strongly, I spoke with the same 
freedom, and more warmth than in the garden of the 
hotel de Richelieu : nor was Mr. Fox more displeassed 
than he had been there at my speaking unreservedly. 
He said, however, very little. 

It was obvious to me, that in his own breast be concur- 
red with me in admitting that a long arrear of redress was 
due to Ireland ; but he seemed to feel indisposed to enter 
upon the subject ; there was a mixture of benevolence 
and uneasiness in his countenance, which said, I do not 
blame you for speaking for your unhappy country, but 
you do not comprehend the difficulties of my situation. 
He told me, however, as some consolation, that a strong 
recommendation had come from the Irish government, 
just quitting office, (Lord Hardwicke) to renew the sus- 
pension of the Habeas Corpus bill this year, (I8O6) but 
that it had been rejected. It was very evident, from his 
manner, whom Ireland might thank for this boon, and 
I am quite satisfied that to this day she owes so much of 
the preservation of her liberties principally, if not entirely, 
to Charles James Fox. On this occasion, he said that 
something was in contemplation relating to tithes. I did 
not think Mr. Fox's mind was at all at ease upon the sub- 
ject of Ireland. He seemed to rely upon the duke of 
Bedford's name and amiable disposition, but with all that 
candour and purity of soul, which so eminently set him 
above the dark and haughty statesman, the smooth and wily 
Qourtier, he did not affect to say, that much could be 
done. I could read in his mind all the answer he could 
give me, to be 

and I forbore to press him then ; and when I afterwards 



240 

renewed the subject, I found in him the same feelings.^ 
In fact, the patriots, or whig characters of Ireland, had 
contributed to make Mr. Fox's situation more difficult 
and more individually responsible for Ireland. It was 
manifest that Mr. Grattan and Mr. Ponsonby, and their 
friends, had made no conditions for her. I ever con- 
sidered this as a fatal dereliction of her interests. Mr. 
Fox, overwhelmed as he was with foreign and domestic 
affairs, was neither called upon, nor was he able^ to act 
everywhere, and for every person. I am sure, too, that, 
had Mr. Grattan and his friends expressly declared that 
they must know what terms of relief would be granted 
to Ireland, before they could support the new ministry, Mr. 
Fox would have found himself strengthened by the de- 
mand, and that if no other man in the cabinet had listen- 
ed with satisfaction to their proposals, he would. The 
catholics, helpless as they were, having none of their 
body in the English parliament, acted a wise as well as 
generous part in relying silently upon Mr. Fox ; but Mr» 
Grattan, having become an English member for Ireland, 
ought to have insisted upon positive measures of redress 
for her, and opposed even Mr. Fox's ministry, (as he has 
since that of the prince regent,) unless its first measures 
were calculated to destroy the Pittite system there, and to 
restore liberty to his long oppressed country. I am certain 
Mr. Fox would not have been displeased at this conduct. 
He was not at all a man to shudder at a division in the 
cabinet, if he was on right ground, and, as he subsequent- 
iy must, most probably, hav^e gone out upon the Irish ques- 
tion, it would have spared him great labour and anxiety 
(perhaps prolonged his invaluable life,) if he bad at 
the outset, and in defence of the liberty and happi- 
ness of Ireland, left the cabinet : the mercenary crowd 
who hovered round him, panting for situation, place, 
and pension, and who styled themselves, so improperly^ 

* Droop not my friend, a happier day- 
May come, and chase those fears away. 



241 



his friends, might have been disappointed, but FoXj 
great at St. Anne's Hill, with his history, the poetSj 
and a few sincere friends—- if he did return to power* 
would have come in singly, and his ministry would then 
have been without alloy. 

As I always looked upon that sort of policy which 
sanctions a bad measure, by subsequent inertness, as weak 
and dangerous, I never could discover what reasons could 
influence Mr. Grattan and his friends to allow the union 
to be glossed over, as if irretrievable ; the repeal of an act 
of union not being more difficult than that of Poyning's 
law, or any other act treating upon Ireland's independence. 
The goodness of Mr. Grattan's heart, all must admit ; but 
his entrance into the English parliament, after the union, 
has involved him in inextricable difficulties, I fear : he 
may recollect our conversations after the union, when I 
almost conjured him never to sit in an English assembly, 
whose prejudices were strong and highly adverse to Ire= 
"Janda 



2 M 



CHAPTER II. 



IN the sp/ing of the year 1806, Mr. Fox was always 
happy to get to St. Anne's Hill for a few days, and with- 
draw from the harassing occupations of a ministry, which 
it required all his vigour, and all the weight of his name 
to uphold; assailed too, as it was, by the active and inde- 
fatigable adherents of the Pittite system, and weakened by 
a want of popularity, naturally resulting from the neutra- 
lized course it appeared to pursue. At St Anne's, as he 
had been at La Grange, when he withdrew from the splen- 
dour and amusements of Paris, he seemed more than ever 
to delight in the country. A small party, consisting of 
general Fitzpatrick, and lord Albemarle and family, 
found their time pass lightly away; Mr. Fox, with a few 
chosen friends, was also truly happy and cheerful ; lord 
Albemarle was sincerely attached to him, and was very 
much regarded by him. Lord A. was one of those ami- 
able and unaffected men, possessing sound sense, great 
good-nature, and a feeling heart; no talker, but always de- 
livering himself well, and naturally ; a most excellent do- 
mestic character, and worthy, from the simplicity of his 
manners, the integrity of his mind, and his love of liberty 
and respect for humanity, every way worthy the friend- 
ship of Mr. Fox. This nobleman has spoken little in the 
lords, but when he has done so, it was always on grand 



245 



principles, and, much as the more prominent public cha- 
racters are applauded for their exersions, I would ever 
prefer the modest merit, ingenuous nature, and noble 
heart of lord Albemarle, to the shining orator of a party ; 
to the consummate politician, alive to all the movements 
and prospects of that party, but dead to the grand interests 
of his country and the world. 

Lord Albemarle was sincerely beloved by Mr. Fox : 
lady Albemarle, whose sincerity and naivete were very 
pleasing, and who was the lovely mother of some fine 
children, there with her, also contributed to make St. 
Anne's Hill still more agreeable. The Messieurs Porters, 
excellent and respectable young men, neighbours of Mr. 
Fox, and by him long esteemed, were occasionally with 
us. They found no difference in the great minister and the 
tranquil possessor of St. Anne's Hill. I had seen no- 
thing resembling this scene but La Grange ; and I cannot 
but think that Fox and La Fayette, if parallels of great 
men, in the manner of Plutarch, were made, would be 
found similar characters in a great variety of leading, 
points ; of more purity, disinterestedness, and sensibility, 
than any of modern days, equally great, equally happy in 
retirement, contemners of power, true to liberty, warm 
and affectionate friends, fond of domestic life, the country 
and the poets, of serene and admirable temper, disclaim- 
ing every species of ostentation, tolerant and liberal in re- 
ligion, kind and benevolent to inferiors, easily amused, 
and hospitable in no common degree. While at St. 
Anne's Hill, the despatches were brought to Mr. Fox, 
and forwarded from thence to his majesty. 

It might be supposed by some, that the cares of his 
new situation abstracted him from all thoughts of his 
Greek ; but I am going to give a proof of the lively con- 
cern he continued to take in every thing relating to the 
poets. Early one morning, I had Euripides in my hand, 
and was reading Alcestis, which I had formerly wished 



244 

to do in Ireland, but had an incomplete edition of Euri- 
pides, (as the heads of Dublin university leave out in their 
course, Alcestis, one of Euripides' most interesting and 
best pieces) and could obtain no better in the country. 
" How do you like it ?" said Mr. Fox, entering, and well 
pleased to think a little about Euripides, instead of the 
perplexing state of the continent, and the complicated dif- 
ficulties at home ; " I have just begun," said I, " and 
cannot tell yet." " You will find something you will like ; 
tell me when you come to it." I read on; his servant was 
dressing him ; he waited and watched me attentively : 
when I came to the description of Alcestis, I proceeded 
with emotion, till I came to the part so pathetically depict- 
ing Alcestis : after praying for her children, 

And again, 

" KuTruru B-vXvf^ov ua-TfurHa'ay nm Xi^^i 
nxe^rr^oj," &c. &c. 

Kfvj^ ^e TrflojTrtTV^c-flt," &c. &c. 

I laid down the book upon the sofa ! Mr. Fox looked 
full of a kind of satisfaction on perceiving that I could 
not go on. In a short time I finished the description, 
which, for pathos and exquisite tenderness, is, I believe, 
unrivalled in description ; it is full of those touches of na- 
ture, which no man can mistake, placing Alcestis, and 
every object before us, in so lively a manner, that he who 
does not sympathize with her—- he who does not feel the 
tear start as he goes on, ought to shut up Euripides, learn 
to grow rich, and never attempt to speak of the poets. 



2m 

Alcestis was, I think, Mr. Fox's favourite play in this 
favourite dramatic author. In the evening and next morn- 
ing we talked it over, and I was quite gratified to find 
how much we coincided, as besides warmly admiring the 
delightful character of Alcestis, I concurred with him en- 
tirely as to Hercules, whose indecent levity, subsequent 
compunction, and restoration of Alcestis to the faithful 
and afflicted Admetus, we both thought admirably pour- 
trayed by Euripides. 

Mr. Fox's memory showed itself to be peculiarly 
powerful in regard to the poets. He had not, perhaps, 
read Alcestis, and, consequently, the admired passage, for 
a long series of years, and yet he anticipated the very spot 
where he expected me to stop, with as much precision as 
if he had been looking over my shoulder. I have seen 
him, t6o, in speaking of Spencer's Fairy Queen and Tasso, 
turn to the works of the Italian poet, and point out, here 
and there, lines ari4 images, similiar to parts of Spencer's 
work, with as much rapidity as if they had been marked 
out for him. Among the ancient English poets he enter- 
tained a sincere veneration for Chaucer, a poet, in tender- 
ness and natural description, resembling Euripides. 

At St. Anne's the same regular and happy life was 
led when Mr. Fox was there, as formerly : with this dif- 
ference, that reading aloud in history gave place to busi- 
ness. Although now the first minister in England, I ne- 
ver observed in him a wish to enlarge his little farm around 
St. Anne's, or to exchange it for something larger and 
less modest : he never thought of a grand house in the 
country, and the utmost acquisition he meditated, was a 
small wood and a rural cottage,, for shooting, at a dis- 
tance of a mile and a half from St. Anne's. His medita- 
tions and serious thoughts were all given to his country ; 
his lighter ones to his beloved authors, to St. Anne's and 
the unfading pleasures of the country. As the season ad- 
vanced, he looked forward, with secret satisfaction, to the 



M6 

months when parliament having risen, he would be able to 
spend more time out of town. 

As I have restricted myself a great deal in my present 
work, from observations upon any thing like a detailed ac- 
count of Mr. Fox's ministry, one incident is, however, 
too pleasing an instance of his equanimity to be withheld.* 
In a certain debate, Mr. Canning had attacked him with a 
greater degree of acrimony than I thought becoming, whe- 
ther Mr. Fox's experience, or the former good terms be- 
tween them, when Mr. Canning was very young, autho- 
rised. — ^This I heard in the gallery, and saw, with great 
indignation, that the young politicians and associates, 
whom Mr. Fox had raised into a participation of power 
with himself, by no means repelled, with proper spirit, 
the attack of their taunting, yet able, adversary. There 
was something of the 

" Adsum qui feci — in me convertite ferrum." 

wanting; and, in truth, I never perceived a sufficient ap- 
preciation of this great man in that quarter, so as to in- 
duce me to hold a very high opinion of some of his col- 
leagues. Like Ajax, Fox was left with his broad shield 
and dauntless arm to avert every attack, 



* When my readers consider that I have waited five years in the expectation 
that some Avork, doing justice to Mr Fox's amiable and great qualities, would 
appear, from some pen capable of doing more justice to him than mine, no im- 
proper forwardness will, I trust, be now imputed to me 1 happen to entertain an 
exactly inrerse view from that taken by the friends consulted by lord Holland, 
(vide the end of his preface to Historical Fragment) and to think that the his- 
toric remains should have been delayed, and that the life, or memoir of Mr, 
Fox should have been promptly brought out. The one v/as not immediately 
called for, and would have appeared to more advantage after a lapse of time : 
the other was anxiously wished for by every lover of freedom and admirer of 
Fox. 1 regi'et much that lord Holland was induced, by any advice to alter the 
sentiments he entertained when I last conversed with him in 1807, at St Anne's 
Jlill. That noble and amiable character has hut to follow his own clear and, 
candid conceptions, to render him full}' worthy of his great and immortal re- 
'.ative. 



247 

and still his value was not adequately recognised. How often 
have I inwardly smiled at full-blown vanity, and said, "is 
this a worthy associate for Fox ?" On the night of the debate 
I allude to, Mr. Fox took me home with him. He was 
quite placid and cheerful, as he generally was ; and though 
I expressed my vexation at Mr. Canning's acrimony, he 
seemed perfectly unruffled by it, and very well pleased at 
his majority. There was a degree of majesty and com- 
posure that I have often admired about Mr. Fox, during 
his short ministry in 1806, but never more than highly 
befitting the minister of a great empire, on this occasion, 
when another would have felt provoked at Mr. Canning's 
intemperance, or at least displeased that some of his youn- 
ger friends had not repelled the attack with energy, and 
even resentment. I am quite willing to admit the 
amiable qualities and very powerful talents (the best, I 
think, of the Pitt school) of Mr. Canning ; I should be 
wrong not to acknowledge a generosity of disposition in 
him raising him much above his ci-devant party, because I 
have experienced it ; but in recording this incident concern- 
ing Mr. Fox, I am sure he will join with me in admiring 
the suavity of the man, and the calmness of the minister. 

Every application made to him by old friends, or by 
any persons in middle life, to whom promises had been 
made, he answered with benignity and promptitude. Con- 
stancy in friendship, and gratitude for services or assis- 
tance, were, indeed, among his greatest virtues, and rare 
ones, it must be allowed, in a minister of state. Of this 
a gentleman at the Irish bar, of much respectability and 
talents, lately furnished me with a remarkable proof. This 
gentleman had, when at the English bar, been useful t-o 
Mr. Fox respecting some election business. A greats 
number of years had elapsed. The gentleman went to 
Ireland, and practised at the Irish bar. Upon Mr. Fox's 
coming into power in 1806, he wrote over directly, ex- 
pressing himself in a very handsome manner, and inform- 



248 



ing him that he had recommended him to the duke of 
Bedford's notice. 

Certainly no responsibility lay upon Mr. Fox in this 
gentleman's case. The Irish whig party, by the efFects 
of the union, had been absorbed into the parliament of 
England, and was no more seen or heard of. I have 
alluded to the deficiency as it appeared, and still appears 
to me, in Messrs. Grattan and Ponsonby in not making 
terms for Ireland, previous to supporting the new minis- 
try. — It is there the neglect of Mr. Curran is to be char- 
ged. Mr. Grattan declined accepting office himself. Mr. 
Ponsonby made his own terms, and became chancellor, 
while Mr. Curran, who had laboured along with them in 
the same vocation, so long, and so powerfully, in defence 
of Ireland^s rights, was left, by his own party, unnoticed, 
and in no very enviable situation in the hall of the four 
courts in Dublin. As I admired Mr. Gurran's talents, 
and thought him hardly used, I spoke very warmly and 
strongly to Mr. Fox, on my going over, respecting him t 
representing that it was disgraceful to a Foxite ministry, 
to pass by such a man, and venturing to urge what my 
friendship for Mr. Curran sincerely prompted. Mr« 
Fox heard me, as he always did, (and it was most rarely 
I importuned him on any political matter,) with attention 
and complacency — was not displeased at my earnestness, 
and said (though he by no means seemed to think it to be 
quite an easy matter,) " Yes, yes, Curran must be taken 
care of." There is nothing more obvious in an attentive 
examination of Mr. Fox's character, than that singleness 
of heart, and decided line of conduct, which impelled him 
to do what was right, without at all considering the prej- 
udices of others. The Irish party o^ ci-devant whigs, had 
clearly left Mr. Curran out of their calculations ,* or, 
from their making no previous stipulations, were unable 
to protect his interests. Mr. Fox, guided by the recti- 
iude and generosity of his mind, desired that justice should 
be doncj and as there was difficulty and objections in Mr. 



249 



Curran's case, without Mr. Fox, his subsequent elevation 
would have been uncertain. 

While Mr. Fox thus appears contented and moderateg 
constant and affectionate to old friends, and attached to hit 
books and the country, just as when he filled a private 
station, he also evinced a noble disinterestedness about his 
family and connexions ; he sought neither place nor pen- 
sion for them on coming into office ; he secured no rever« 
sions, or sinecures for himself or them, and not a view or 
thought of his mind tended to his own or family's aggran- 
dizement. A beloved and most deserving nephew, highly 
gifted in point of talent ; liberal and of congenial mind to 
himself, lord Holland, was without situation, and his uncle 
the first minister, as well as genius in the empire. Disin- 
terestedness consists of two branches, taking nothing for 
selfish purposes, and sacrificing personal feelings for the 
good of others. Mr. Fox evinced disinterestedness in 
both respects, and it was quite impossible to conceive any 
thing more devoid of selfish or ambitious ideas, than the 
feelings of that great man's mind. 

On returning from St. Anne's Hill, he resumed his oc- 
cupations at the office with greater alacrity and steadiness. 
He received the foreign ministers with dignity and affa- 
bility, and they found the asperities of the preceding min- 
istry soften into a wise system of conciliation, whilst the 
genuine energy of genius began to create new sentiments 
of respect in their courts for England. Mildness of tem- 
per had taken place of domineering; and foreign courts, 
which had revolted at the imperious tone of a bully, suf- 
fered themselves to be persuaded like friends, and argued 
with as equals. 

At the English foreign office, I found myself in a very 
different situation from that at the Bureau des Aff'aires 
Etrangeres^ at Paris. There we reviewed P^st traOg^ ^.j^^g 
in the extraordinary time of the Stuarts and Lou- viy 

2 I 



250 



and contemplated the final result in the just humiliation of 
Louis, under William and Ann^, with unfeigned pleasure. 
Here I could only review a series of blunders, as 1 cast 
my eye over the map of Europe, and on the list of foreign 
courts, to which England had once sent ambassadors. In 
one case, a despot had been gloriously repressed ; and when 
all the rational purposes of war had been fulfilled, peace 
had given repose to Europe: in the latter, a frantic at- 
tempt had been made to dismember, and new model a great 
nation, whose efforts for self-preservation, sublime but ter- 
rible, had reacted upon Europe, and fatally injured her 
just balance and distribution of power. How different 
were the results, when William the Third, comprehensive 
and magnanimous, directed the affairs of Great Britain, 
from those attending the ministry of Mr. William Pitt ! 



CHAPTER in 



UNDER the auspices of Mr. Fox, England had her 
best chance of a favourable and honourable peace* It 
would be needless to investigate whether the incident 
which gave rise to the overtures was contrived by the 
French government, or was one of those affairs familiar to 
governments, of which Mr. Fox made a noble and judi- 
cious use. When two great nations need repose, neither is 
degraded by making the first proposal, or by seeking to 
adjust their differences, and lay down their arms. Mr. Fox 
saw precious moments passing away, and the states of 
Europe becoming daily more enfeebled, by their contests 
with France. He knew that the natural resources of Eng- 
land enabled her to defy every danger in time of peace, 
and as it was part of his character not to fear remote pos- 
sibilities, he thought the present and positive good, result- 
ing from diminished expenditure, the correction of abuses 
at home, and a grand system of liberal European politics 
upon the continent, would counterbalance the increasing 
power of France, and that, in fact, it was by war she had 
grown great, and by war she would grow greater. 

The negotiation which ensued was a singular spectacle 
for Europe. ' Fox and Talleyrand= — the most able men 



252 

in their respective countries, in foreign affairs-— were 
matched in the grand struggle to procure advantages for 
their countries, and to make a peace honourable to both. 
It is the common mistake in England, that the Freneh are 
insincere, and of this Mr. Pitt had profitted successfully 
in his coalition wars : it is, therefore, usual, even with 
English governments, to doubt of the sincerity of France, 
and to cast the imputation of insincerity on her, at the end 
of every unsuccessful negotiation. I am of opinion, that 
even in common life an overweening degree of suspicion 
is of injurious consequence, that it irritates and alienates 
to a great degree, and places parties in a state of repulsion, 
hostile to their peace and good understanding. It is still 
more dangerous, as the mischief is more extensive when 
this disposition separates nations. 

I believe the French government was sincere, in I8O65, 
in their wish for peace, as all my observations in the year 
1802, in France, confirmed me in the idea, that not only 
the people but the government were sincerely inclined to 
preserve a good understanding with Great Britain, until 
the first consul became irritated at the constant attacks 
upon him in the English journals. 

But when Mr. Pitt was no more, he, whose measures 
had so plainly been directed not merely against the rank 
and consequence, but against the very existence of the 
French people, a great cause of alienation from Great Bri- 
tain was removed, and those angry feelings, which are ex- 
cited against an arrogant persecutor, were buried in his 
tomb. Besides, Mr. Fox, whose generous and sincere 
nature, acknowledged love of peace, and great capacity, 
were v/ell known to the French nation and government, 
was placed at the helm, and they had reason to expect 
manly and dignified discussion, instead of captious or im- 
perious cavilling in a negotiation. Lord Grenville unfor- 
tunately was joined with Mr. Fox, indeed, but even the 
co-operation of that minister^ so memorably unconciliating 



253 

in the department for foreign affairs at the commencement 
of the war with France, was forgotten, under the idea 
that he had acted a subordinate part to Mr. Pitt, and that 
the happier temper of Mr. Fnx would produce better 
feelings. 

As the 'negotiation proceeded, Mr. Fox showed great 
anxiety, not that of a politician anxious to gain credit for 
successful measures, but of a man deeply impressed with 
a regard for the interests of suffering humanity. I do not 
say that he expected, as it advanced, that it would arrive 
at a happy termination. Mr. Pitt, whose unfortunate and 
old system had been revived after the truce of 1802, had 
rendered pacification nearly impossible. He had so much 
further involved and injured the continent, particularly 
Russia, by persevering in his plans, which no experience 
could correct, no time or irrevocable events could enlight- 
en, that England, in 1806, with Mr. Fox at the head of 
her councils, saw herself incapable of including the inte- 
rests of the continent, as was desirable, along with her 
own. The losses of Russia hurried her into a hasty treaty. 
No other formidable power remained unbroken, that could 
join with her, and, by its additional weight, make the scale 
preponderate against, or balance that of France. 

Mr. Fox's exalted name was beneficial indeed to Eng- 

land : he knew the character of the French emperor, too, 

and was himself personally respected and esteemed by the 

government of France ; but this was a feeble substitute 

for the weight of an allied power. England and France 

were thus brought to the work of peace single-handed. The 

acute, ingenious, and penetrating mind of Talleyrand, was 

supported by the vast advantages gained by France, and 

confirmed by the dangerous prolongation of war— the 

mild, argumentative, and commanding energy of Fox, 

was unabashed by such superiority ; yet the great nation,^ 

whose interests he guarded, required high terms to satisfy 

it, and with Roman magnanimity, was willing, involved,. 



254 



as she had been, by a rash and inexperienced minister, to 
perish, rather than compromise her dignity, or descend 
from her rank. 

As the negotiation went on, Mr. Fox cvlnted less hope» 
He was, however, doing his duty, and a fortunate, opportu- 
nity at least, was afforded him of presenting to England and 
Europe his character in all its grandeur, purity, and benevo- 
lence, on a scale adequate to admit of its full expansion. 
Who can read his expressions to Talleyrand, ending one 
of his early despatches, unmoved. "Let us," said this in- 
comparable minister, " endeavour to do what we can for 
the glory and interests of our countries, and for the happi- 
ness of the human race !" It is here that the genius of 
Fox bursts out with a splendour at once brilliant and 
warm. His great heart yearning for the good of his fel- 
low-creatures, swelled as he wrote ; and, pregnant with 
every sentiment worthy of a statesman, a citizen, and a 
christain, inspired his pen with lines that, if inscribed on 
on his tomb, would alone entitle him to immortal renown, 
the gratitude of his country, and the veneration of Europe^ 
But a fatal change was at hand ! 

Oh, readers ! when I anticipate the mournful scenes 
which folio wed-~-the cold shuddering which seizes me, 
the stealing tear which falls-<-unfit me for my task ! If 
ihe minister is forgotten in the friend, those who value 
the endearing ties of domestic life, and the mild virtues, 
which adorn it, will pardon an expression of anguish 
when I recollect what Fox was, and that he is now no 
more ! 



CHAPTER IV. 



ABOUT the end of May, Mrs. Fox mentioned 
slightly to me that Mr. Fox was unwell ; but at this time 
there was no alarm or apprehension. In the beginning of 
June I received a message from her, requesting me to 
come to Mr. Fox, as he had expressed a wish for me to 
read to him, if I was disengaged. It was in the evening, 
and I found him reclining upon a couch, uneasy and 
languid. It seemed to me so sudden an attack, that I 
was surprised and shocked. Pie requested me to read 
some of the ^Eneid to him, and desired me to turn to 
the fourth book : this was his favourite part. The 
tone of melancholy with which that inimitable book com- 
mences, was pleasing to his mind : he enjoyed the reading 
much. Dido was his most admired character in the 
-^neid. I have often heard him repeat with animation 5 

" Nee til)i diva parens, generis nee Dardanus auctor, 
Perfide : sed duris genuit te cautibus horrens 
Caucasus, Hyrcanseque admorunt ubera tigres. 
Nam quid dissimulo, aut quce me ad majora reserve ? 
Num fietu ingemuit nostro ? num lumina flexit ? 
Nura lacrymas ^-ictus dedit, aut tnlseratus amantem est ;" 



256 

The same sort of indignant burst he admired in this charac- 
ter, pourtrayed by Metastasio so happily ; and I havehtard 
also dwell upon, and repeat, that part of Dido's speech, him 



*'* Ecco, la foglia" &c. &c. 



with the same feeling. I read this evening to him the 
chief part of the fourth book. He appeared relieved, and 
to forget his uneasiness and pains ; but I felt this recur- 
rence to Virgil as a mournful omen of a great attack 
upon his system, and that he was already looking to ab- 
stract himself from noise and tumult, and politics. Hence- 
forth his illness rapidly increased, and was pronounced a 
dropsy ! I have reason to think that he turned his 
thoughts very soon to retirement at St. Anne's Hill, as he 
found the pressure of business insupportably harassing, and 
I have ever had in mind those lines, as very applicable to 
him at this time : 

" And as a hare, whom hounds and horns pursue. 
Pants to the goal, from whence at first she flew, 
1 still had hopes — my long vexations past. 
Here to return, and die at last." 

Another of those symptoms of melancholy foreboding, 
I thought, was shown in his manner at Holland house, 
Mrs. Fox, he, and I, drove there several times before his 
illness confined him, and when exercise was strongly urg- 
ed. He looked around him the last day he was there 
with a farewell tenderness that struck me very much. 
It was the place where he had spent his youthful days. 
Every lawn, garden, tree, and walk, were viewed by him 
with peculiar affection. He pointed out its beauties to 
me, and in particular showed me a green lane or avenue, 
which his mother, the late lady Holland, had made by 
shutting up a road. He was a very exquisite judge of 
the picturesque, and had mentioned to me hov/ beautiful 



^57 

this road had become, since converted into an alley. He 
raised his eyes in the house, looked around, and was 
earnest in pointing out every thing he liked and remem-^ 
bered. 

Soon, however, his illness very alarmingly increased : 
he suffered pains, and often rose from dinner with intole- 
rable fuffering. His temper never changed, and was 
always serene and sweet : it was amazing to behold so 
much distressing anguish, and so great equanimity. 
His friends, alarmed, crowded round him, as well as those 
relatives who, in a peculiar degree, knew his value and 
affectionate nature. His colleagues frequently consulted 
with him. Tjic garden of the house at Stable Yard, 
(since the duke of York's) was daily filled with anxious 
enquirers. The foreign ambassadors, or ministers, or 
private friends of Mr. Fox, walked there, eager to know 
his state of health, and to catch at the hope of amendment. 
As he grew worse, he ceased to go out in his carriage, and 
was drawn in a garden chair at times round the walks. 
I have myself drawn him whilst the Austrian ambassador, 
prince Staremburgh, conversed with him ; his manners 
was as easy, and his mind as penetrating and as vigorous 
as ever ; and he transacted business in this way, though 
heavily oppressed by his disorder, with perfect facility. 

General Fitzpatrick, lord Robert Spencer, and lord 
Fitzwilliam, almost constantly dined and spent the even- 
ing with him. Among all his friends, none was more 
attached to him, or more cherished in return by Mr. Fox, 
than lord Fitzwilliam. This nobleman, in many points 
of character, approximated to Mr. Fox : mild and bene- 
volent — dignified and unassuming— with nothing of the 
effeminacy of nobility about him : a warm and unshaken 
friend, redeeming his aberration of politics by a noble 
return to the great man, whose opinions on the French 
war had proved to be so correct— lord Fitzwillian?; 
though less noticed, has more of the genuine statesman 



258 



than lords Grenville or Grey, and in mind and manner 
resembled Mr. Fox more than any other ofhiscoUeagueSr 
His unremitting and tender solitude for Mr. Fox's health 
was that of a brother. 

The prince of Wales at this time showed all the marks 
of a feeling heart, and of great constancy in friendship, 
more honourable to him than the high station he adorned. 
Almost every day he called and saw Mr. Fox. There was 
no affectation in his visits | the countenance full of good- 
natured concern — the manner expressive of lively interest 
— the softened voice evinced that not all the splendor, the 
flattery, or pleasures of a court, had changed the brightest 
feature in the human character — attention to a sick and 
drooping friend. Posterity, I trust, will receive his pub- 
lic character as a great king — the lover of his people— the 
protector of liberty, and defender of the laws— as bright, 
if not brighter, than that of any of his predecessors ; but 
if his affectionate solicitude about the great statesman then 
struggling under a cruel disease, and the constancy of his 
friendship to Fox, even till the last glimmering spark of 
life was extinct, were the only traits recorded of him, pos- 
terity will say this was a great prince, a faithful friend, 
and possessed of a feeling, uncorrupted heart ! When the 
prince was out of town, as also when Mr. Fox removed j 
and he saw him no more, I wrote daily to his royal high« 
ness, at his own desire, giving minute and constant ac- 
counts of the invalid's health, till the melancholy scene 
was closed ! 

The whole royal family manifested respect and sympa- 
thy for this great patriot, and the dukes of Clarence and 
York called in person to inquire in regard to his health. 
But as his illness grev/ more violent, he saw fewer visitors. 
Lord Holland, with filial affection and attention, seldom 
left his uncle. Miss Fox, his lordship's sister, who was 
much beloved by Mr. Fox, and whose candid and amiable 
mind, superior accomplishments, and sincere attachmer.t 



259 

to the cause of humanity and liberty, rendered her worthy 
of the love of such a relative, was unremitting in her at" 
tendance. 

Mrs. Fox, whose unwearied attentions were the chief 
comfort of the sufferer and myself, read aloud a great deal 
to him. Crabb's poems in manuscript pleased him a great 
deal, in particular, the little episode of Phoebe Dawson. 
He did not, however, hear them all read, and there are 
parts in which he would have suggested alterations. We 
thus read, relieving each other, a great number of novels 
to him. 

He now saw very few persons. At one singular inter- 
view I was at this time present. Mr. Sheridan wished to 
see Mr. Fox, to which the latter reluctantly consented, 
requesting lord Grey to remain in the room. The meeting 
was short and unsatisfactory. Mr. Fox, with more cold- 
ness than I ever saw him assume to any one, spoke but a 
few words. Mr. Sheridan was embarrassed, and little 
passed, but mere words of course. I have related this 
circumstance in order to show the sincerity of Mr. Fox's 
nature, and to disprove the false idea that latterly any par- 
ticular intimacy subsisted between Mr. Fox, and that 
celebrated orator. 

A few days after, he received Mr. Grattan, in a very 
different manner ; warm and friendly to a great degree. 
Mr. G. was leaving England, and never saw Mr. Fox 
again. I am sure, had Mr. Grattan known him better 5 
had he been fully aware of the noble independence of his 
character; how thoroughly he loved liberty; and how 
truly he despised party, that he would himself have held, 
subsequently, a different course, and either have retired 
from parliament (without Fox it being to him a hopeless 
scene) or have stood aloof fron> the Grenville and Grey 
party. In either case that great and amiable man would 
have shown himself far more worthy the friendship of 



260 



Mr. Fox, and would have stood much higher in the pages 
of history. 

As his disorder increased, the operation of tapping was 
performed, which he bore with great calmness and reso- 
lution. In the mean time the negotiation with France was 
proceeding : in the commencement of his illness he had 
dictated the despatches, but he was no longer equal to the 
conduct of it, and the appointment of lord Lauderdale 
was one of the last of his acts in that aifair. This negotia- 
tion, as is well known, assumed a different aspect, when 
the genius of Fox no longer directed it : it may be allow- 
ed to be said, that to conduct such an affair to a successful 
result, much temper, much conciliation, and an oblivion of 
unhappy and irremediable events in Europe, were all re- 
quired, in order to meet the French negotiators upon pro- 
per ground. All these Mr. Fox possessed ; it is to be fear- 
ed his virtual successor, lord Grenville, wanted them ! 
He was,^ in many respects, an unfortunate person to suc- 
ceed Mr. Fox, in negotiating with France. LordT Gren- 
ville may be deemed an able debater, a man o^ sound 
sense, and correct and indefatigable in business ; T)at the 
grand qualities of genius— -that sensibility, which appre- 
ciates the feelings and wafesoJ others, and meets the just 
demands of humanity half way, that intuitive glance which 
comprehends time and place, and regulates a complicated 
affair by a stroke of the pen, were not his ! Besides, he 
had been concerned in almost all the unsuccessful wars 
and negotiations of Mr. Pitt ! The French nation, under 
an emperor, could not soon forget the insults offered to 
the republic. A negotiation which was exceedingly com- 
plicated in the hands of Mr. Fox, in those of lord Gren- 
ville was sure to fail ! That great man himself began to 
entertain feeble hopes of its success; but I apprehend, 
had he lived, he would have surmounted every difficulty, 
and he v\^as not himself aware of half the respect and vene- 
ration entertained for his character upon the continento 
No one will deny that the best probability of peace was 



261 

destroyed, when Mr. Fox became unable to direct the ne- 
gotiation. ^ 

On recovering the first operation of tapping he began to 
v/ish much to leave town. In truth, he had now every 
reason to do so ; visitors fatigued and oppressed him. He 
languished for St. Anne's Hill, and there all his hopes and 
wishes centred : he thought of a private life, and of re- 
signing his office, and we had hopes that he might be re- 
stored sufficiently to enjoy health by abstaining from busi- 
ness. The duke of Devonshire offered him the use of 
Chiswick house as a resting place, from whence if he 
gained strength enough, he might proceed to St. Anne's. 
Preparations for his departure began, therefore, to be 
made, which he saw with visible and unfeigned pleasure. 

Two or three days before he was removed to Chiswick 
house, Mr. Fox sent for me, and with marked hesitation 
and anxiety, as if he much wished it, and yet was unwil- 
ling to ask it, informed me of his plan of going to Chis- 
wick house, requesting me to form one of the family there. 
There was no occasion to request me ; duty, affection, and 
gratitude, would have carried me wherever he went. 
About the end of July, Mrs. Fox and he went there, and 
on the following day I joined them. 

I was nearly as much struck on entering the beautiful 
and classic villa of the duke of Devonshire, at Mr. Fox's 
appearance, as I had been when I saw him first at St. 
Anne's Hill. The change of air and scene had already 
benefitted him. I found him walking about and looking at 
the pictures ; he wore a morning gown, his air was pecu- 
liarly noble and august; it was the Roman consul or sena- 
tor retired from the tumult of a busy city, and enjoying 
the charms of rural retirement, surrounded by the choicest 
productions of art. All care seemed removed from his 
mind ; his soul expatiated on something sublime, and Mr. 
Fox stood before me io a new, and I may truly say awful. 



262 

point of view ; as a christian philosopher, abstracted from 
the world, having taken a long farewell of it ; serene, 
composed, cheerful, and willing, as long as he remained, 
to be pleased with life, participating in social converse 
with the same ease as if his latter moments were far dis- 
tant. Never could Cicero, that great and worthy man re- 
tired to his Tusculan villa, and deploring the situation of 
:an almost ruined republic, appear more interesting or more 
grand. The scenery around, where every thing looked 
classic and Roman, conspired much to render Mr. Fox 
more interesting at this period than any of his life. He 
received me with great complacency and kindnesss, and 
seemed to desire nothing but the society of Mrs. Fox and 
myself. 

The days and evenings were now devoted to reading 
aloud, Palamon and Arcite, improved by Dryden ; John- 
son's lives of the poets ; the iEneid, and Swift's poetry* 
He found, also, great pleasure in showing me the pictures 
of Belisarius, &c. which adorn the delightful villa at 
Chiswick, and also the gardens and grounds. There 
was a bevolence in this I well understood; Mr. FoX 
knew mankind well, and whilst the busy stir of politics 
were alluring, and inciting others to pursue new plans, 
and to look to new patrons and friends, he desired that I 
should find every thing pleasant in our new abode to 
compensate for seclusion, and attendance on an invalid. 
In fact, the delicacy and tenderness of his mind were un- 
paralleled, and, in one peculiar respect, I always observed 
him to be, at all times, above what are called great men, 
inasmuch as friendship with him levelled all distinctions, 
and constantly led him to consult the wants and feelings 
of his friend on the equal ground of human rights. 

As I drew him round Chiswick garden, alternately 
with a servant, his conversation was pleasant and always 
instructive; chiefly directed to objects of natural history, 
botany, &c. kc, A shade of melancholy sometimes stole 



Q63 

across his countenanqe, when objects reminded him o£ 
the late dutchess of Devonshire. At times, Mrs. Fox or 
Miss Fox, walked along with the chair ; his character 
was, as at St. Anne's Hill, ever amiable and domestic. 
One day, when he was fatigued, we entered the small 
study on the ground-floor at Chiswick house, where he 
called for a volume of Swift, out of which he requested. 
me to read one of his inimitably playful and humorous 
pieces of poetry. I yet see him in this small room smiling 
at the ludicrous images and keen touches of Swift ! 

He now ceased entirely to look at, or to desire to hear, 
newspapers read, and took little interest in a negotiation, 
which, before he left town, he considered as rather hope- 
less. Lord Lauderdale was now in Paris, but he was no 
longer guided by Fox. I do not impute to his lordship 
either want of talent or inclination to bring things to a 
happy issue, but rather infer, that unless England aban- 
dons the Pittite style in diplomatique matters, all her ne- 
gotiations will be difficult or fruitless. Happily an accom- 
plished gentleman, as well as dignified prince, now at the 
helm of affairs, gives room to think that the spirit and 
conciliating manners of Fox will return, to inspire and 
regulate ambassadors and ministers. As this is a con- 
sideration of great moment, and appertains to no party, 
it is well deserving the attention of the English govern- 
ment; for the time must arrive when negotiation wilt 
take place, ambassadors be appointed, and treaties be made 
with France. Nor will the sovereign, who carefully su^ 
perintends a negotiation himself, who weighs every diffi- 
culty, and, where he can, softens asperities, discharge a 
light or unimportant duty to the people placed under his 
care ! Happily, too, it is no longer the system of foreign 
aggression and insult followed by Mr. Pitt, but one which, 
whatever may have been the fault of ministers, the Eng- 
lish nation have been plunged into without error on 
their part, and must now, perhaps, continue as well they 
can. 



CHAPTER V. 



MR. FOX began to long for St Anne's Hill, and 
preparations were making there for his reception, when 
we perceived, with sorrow, that his disorder was return- 
ing with redoubled violence. We had indulged in that 
delusion into which hope leads her votaries in the most 
desperate cases ; and in proportion to the increased love, 
esteem, and admiration, which Mr. Fox inspired, we 
clung more anxiously to the pleasing symptoms, which 
threw a gleam of joy over the prospect, and we endeavour- 
ed to close our eyes upon what was threatening and un- 
pleasant. An alarming drowsiness crept frequently upon 
him, and he again evidently increased in size. At this 
period, I well recollect his again recurring to the ^neid ; 
and I then read, at his desire, the fourth book two or three 
times: on these evenings he occasionally dosed, but I con- 
tinued my reading, happy by the sound of my voice, to 
contribute to a longer oblivion of his pains and uneasinessj 
which again became very great. As he would awake, 
his attention caught the part I read; by his great memory, 
he easily, supplied what he had lost, and he never de- 
sired me to return and read any passage again. The ad- 



mirable picture of a distressed mind with which that book 
opens, seemed to describe, in some manner, his own rest- 
less uneasiness ; and in hearing of the woes and death of 
the unfortunate Dido, he forgot, for a little, the cruel 
pains which afflicted himself. That beautiful and affect- 
ing picture of a lingering and painful illnessj was but too 
faithful a portrait of his own situation. 

** Ilia gravis oculos conata adtoUere, rursus 
Deficit. Infixum stridit sub pectore voluus. 
Ter sese adtoUens, cubitoque adnixa levavit : 
Ter revoluta toro est, oculisque errantibus alto 
Qu&sivit cjelo lucem, ingemuitque reperta.'* 

He no longer was equal to getting into the garden chair, 
and all our little social excursions round the grounds of 
this seat were stopped. He soon also became unable to 
go out in the carriage, and the gathering gloom, which 
darkened all our hopes, daily increased. 

The multitude of letters from individuals in England, 
Scotland, and Ireland, which daily poured in, and many 
even from the lowest classes, giving information of dif- 
ferent remedies for the dropsy, were amazing. I an- 
swered them, as long as it was in my power, but the num- 
ber was so great, that, consistent with the attention requi- 
site to Mr. Fox, I found it impossible to do so. The 
interest excited was quite of a sincere and affectionate 
kind, and proved to me that as no man had merited it 
better, so no one had ever possessed the love and confi- 
dence of the people in the same degree as Mr. Fox. 
He was gratified by this sincere and unaffected mark of 
regard, and wished, as far as was possible, the letters to 
be acknowledged with thanks. Here, in truth, was the 
statesman's true reward-— the approbation and gratitude of 
the people— here was honour which wealth could not pur- 
chase, or rank, or power ! here was the tribute due, and 
paid, to the inestimable character the world was soon to 
lose ! Every minister and statesman has adherents and 

2 L 



266 

friends ; because he has, or has had, means of serving and 
promoting the interests of many ; but it has rarely oc- 
curred, that three nations would pour in around the bed 
of a dying statesman, their anxious solicitudes, their 
hopes, and their advice for his health. Why was it so ? 
Fox was the friend of mankind, and soared as much above 
common ministers and statesmen, in benevolence and 
every christian virtue, as he did in genius and knowledge. 

Many letters of a political nature, proved the indepen- 
dence of the character of Britons, and also the great pO" 
litical estimation of Mr. Fox, founded on the soundness 
of his principles, which pervaded every class, and strongly 
contrasted him with the despotic minister he had so long 
opposed. Around the bed of the patriot minister, the 
blessings and prayers of three nations were offered, while 
he continued to exist — on his couch, no curses of the op- 
pressed, no 

*' groans r.ot loud but deep" 

assailed him to trouble his intervals of rest, or heighten, 
his moments of anguish. His long career had been 
marked by exertions for the happiness of mankind : he 
had cared little for the ordinary objects of men-~he had 
not panted for power, for the sole pleasure of dictating to 
others — he had had but one object ever in view — it was sim- 
ple and grand — the happiness of nations ! The protestants^ 
dissenters, and catholics- — the black inhabitants of distant 
climes — all held a place in his heart as men. What could 
disturb the last moments of such a mind ? What was to 
revive one anxious, doubting thought ? Had he not follow^ 
ed all the precepts of Christianity, and carried its divine 
doctrines into the very cabinet and the closet of his sov- 
ereign ? Had he not consecrated his boundless talents to 
straggles for liberty and peace, and in worshipping his 
God with a pure heart, had he not all the merit of a sub- 
lime charity, which expanded over every nation, and acted 



267 

powerfully for his own, to offer at the throne of an im- 
mortal and benignant Deity ? No torturer had shaken his 
lash, and prepared his torments under his ministry- — no 
system of intolerance, debarring man of his right of re- 
ligious liberty, had cramped society under his auspices — 
no persecution of the press — no banishment or imprison- 
ment, or trial for life of any citizen for freedom of politi- 
cal opinions, no unchristian and unwise attack upon an 
agitated and suffering nation, which sought but liberty and 
peace — ^no despotic pride, which trampled the people and 
elbowed the sovereign — had distinguiseed his ministry ! 
He was departing as he had lived, the unshaken friend of 
all the just rights of man — no calumny had deterred — no 
weak fears had ever prevented him from defending them<» 
What was to disturb the last hours of such a man I 

General Fitzpatrick, whose constant attention spoke the 
true and unchanged friend, to the last moment of Mr« 
Fox's life : lord Holland, whose affectionate attentions 
were those of a son, and Miss Fox, who to all the amia- 
bility of her sex joined the superior and philosophic mind 
of her uncle. Lord Robert Spencer, sincere and affection- 
ate, and enlivening to his departing friend — Mrs. Fox, of 
whose unwearied and almost heroic exertions — of whose 
tender heart, which throbbed in unison with his, and vib- 
rated at every pang he felt, who never left his bed side, 
but to snatch a little repose to enable her to renew her 
cares, and of whom the pen which writes cannot describe 
the excellence, the duty, and attachment, manifested in the 
awful moments preceding Mr. Fox's dissolution — myself, 
not more than beginning to discover all the brightness and 
beauty of his character, but anxious to pay debts of grati- 
tude and affection, now, were the only persons admitted 
to his apartments, friendship, and all its endearing offices, 
was what Mr. Fox above all men was entitled to, at this 
afflicting period. His whole life had been remarkable for 
his constancy, and warmth of attachment to those he se- 
lected as his friends ; the late duke of Devonshire, as well 



f^ 



268 

as the dutchess dowager, were most unremitting and kind 
in every care and attention, that a noble hospitality, and 
sincere affection, could bestow. The duke, whose friend- 
ship was warm for Mr. Fox, was among the last who 
were admitted to see him. 

London and Chiswick house now presented most 
strongly-contrasted scenes ; a new ministry was raising its 
head in the metropolis, of which lords Grenville and Grey 
were the leaders. I do not know that Mr. Fox's opinion 
was ever taken upon the formation of another ministry, 
and of its future measures, and I fully incline to think that 
it was not. The despatches had long ceased to be laid 
before him, and the last political news intimated to him, 
was the refusal of Alexander to ratify the treaty conclud- 
ed at Paris by his minister. As his disorder had become 
entirely confirmed, and little or no hope existed of his re- 
covery, the cabinet ceased to look to him for advice ; and, 
before his great mind was harassed by the second inroad 
made by the disorder, they seemed to hold his retreat to 
Chiswick, as a virtual resignation of office. 

Lord Grenville never came there, lord Grey, I think, 
rarely : as the world was receding from the view of the 
illustrious character who had given the ministry all its lus- 
tre, I contemplated with calm indifference the busy move- 
ments of men, and inwardly smiled at the sanguine, and I 
may say, presumptuous ideas of those who thought that a 
ministry, in opposition to a tory party, without Fox, could 
maintain a strong position between the court and the peo- 
ple ; above all, who imagined that on the rupture of the ne- 
gotiation, success would follow the revival of the old plans 
upon the continent. I knew how very grand and original 
v/ere Mr. Fox's ideas, in case of the continuation of hos- 
tilities, and I expected not that the new ministry, which 
was growing out of his secession from politics and busi- 
ness, would imitate his benevolence towards the people, 
cr that they could invent or prepare those plans which , 



269 

like the bolt of Jove, might fall, sudden and irresistible, 
and change the face of war, or inspire new and strange 
feelings in a triumphant and insolent enemy. 

There was, as every one must allow, the conduct of ac- 
tive and attentive politicians in this ; but still it was but 
the manner of ordinary men ! Had I seen them hovering 
round the couch of departing genius, and catching from 
his lips those admonitions, which those who are leaving 
the world give with peculiar effect, I should have augured 
better of the coming time. Had that deference, to so 
great a political character, brought them to seek his last 
ideas, as illuminating principles to guide and inform them, 
I should have said, England's star is not yet obscured | 
and if the spirit of Fox lives in their councils, she may 
escape every threatening evil. It would he improper and 
unjust to say, that the cabinet felt relieved by Mr. Fox's 
removal, as that of a superior mind eclipsing every other | 
but it is allowable to say, that they did not evince that anx=- 
iety for his health, which often induces men to cling, to the 
last, to a friend and adviser, to extract from him those senti- 
ments, or that counsel, which may, in some measure, 
supply his place. That Mr. Fox would not have refused 
such aid to his country, even while he hovered on the 
brink of a better world, his whole life and conduct prove ; 
and that he was capable of doing so, with a mind in full 
vigour to his last hour, I myself can, beyond contra- 
diction, testify. But the busy ways of politicians admit 
not of delay ; their plans are rarely regulated by those 
sublime rules which make the safety of the commonwealth 
the paramount, and anxiousl}^ sought for, object. None 
of that wisdom and patriotism, which sought out Timo- 
leon, even blind and old, to gather from him his opinions, 
and to listen to his admonitions, presided in London at 
this period. Public affairs were to go on, and the pro- 
gress of the state machine was more thought of than its 
happy arrival at some grand and desirable gaoL 



270 

On the other hand, at Chisvvick house, the great man, 
who had so often and so vainly struggled to save his coun- 
try from the errors into which she had fallen, and who 
came too late into his majesty's councils to be able to re-» 
medy them, was fast declining, and saw before that 
country a dreary prospect, and interminable war. Totally- 
unruffled, by what the fretful possessor of power might 
construe into neglect, he preserved the same unabated 
serenity, the same magnanimity, as he had ever done. If 
he inwardly mourned for his distracted country, no com- 
plaints escaped him, no impatient censure of any one was 
heard. Nor was his pure and noble mind less distin- 
guished at this time, by a lofty disregard of all worldly 
concerns. His family, every thing dear to him, stood 
before him, but relying on the justice of his country, and 
the honour of his friends, he left it to them to protect those 
he loved, and guard all he held dear from penury or dis- 
tress. He had now acted his part in the world ; it was 
no longer for him to remind any man of what was due to 
him. Had the ministers requested to have his last advice 
and commands, I am confident this great man would have 
summoned all his powers, and had death followed, given 
them the free dictates, of his exalted mind. Had he ex- 
pired, pouring forth the anxious wishes of his patriotic 
mind, for the happiness of a beloved country, I am fully 
convinced his last look would have been a smile, his last 
word a prayer. 

I shortly beheld Mr. Fox in a light which fully justifies, 
what to some may appear the enthusiasm of affection, or 
the blindness of admiration. He grew daily worse ; his 
size became very inconvenient, and it was determined by 
his physicians, that he ought again to undergo the opera- 
tion of tapping. The day was appointed, the physicians 
arrived, preparations were made. Mrs. Fox, lord Holland, 
every one left the room; when, through a feeling both 
strong and uncontrollable, I determined to remain. My 
anxiety and sorrow for Mr. Fox were so great, that I 



271 

feared, in case of weakness, no one might watch hiiti 
with sufficient attention, in case of any tendency to fainting. 
What followed raised my opinion of this incomparable 
man, far beyond what it had yet been. When every 
thing was ready, Mr. Fox was led from his chamber to 
the outer room, and placed in a great chair.' Great God ! 
what anguish thrilled through me, when he was undressed, 
and the awful preparation was making to pierce his side. 
But he — cheerful, friendly, and benignant, was some- 
thing quite above mortality, giving no trouble, the same 
sweetness of temper, the same courage which looked down 
on pain, the same philosophy which made the best of every- 
thing, and the same wish to give his friends or attendants 
as little trouble as possible, shone forth this day, bright 
and cheering as the evening glow which rests upon a 
placid lake. He, who from respect to suiFering humanity, 
might have desired to retire, or close his eyes, was soon 
recalled from their momentary weakness, by looking on 
the sublime object before him. Mr. Fox, during the 
whole operation, conversed with the physicians, with all 
his usual force, accuracy, and pleasant natural manners ; 
he mentioned to them his opinion, that in all difficult cases, 
his own, or any other, it would be advisable for each to 
write down his opinion, seal it up, and that it should not 
be examined till the deceased person had been opened, and 
then the erroneous conclusions drawn would appear. The 
physicians, astonished, looked at each other, and were at 
a loss to answer. During the whole of the operation, 
even when faintness succeeded to pain, he was cheerful, 
and seemed desirous, by his own disregard of his situation, 
to lessen the concern of others. There was much resem- 
blance in his manner, to that of a philosophic and accomr 
plished Roman, described by Tacitus, in his last moments. 

" Audiebatque referentes, nihil de immortalitate anim^e 
et sapientium placitis, sed levia carmina, et faciles versus ; 
servorum alios largitone, quos de verberibus aiFecit. Iniit 
et vias, somno indulsit, ut quanquam coactamors, fortuitse 



272 

similis esset." A similar self-possession distinguished 
Mr. Fox at this moment, which was of such danger, 
that immediate death might have followed, and of that 
danger he was well aware. When the operation was con- 
cluded, his great anxiety was to send intelligence to Mrs. 
Fox, that he had undergone it safely ; for as he had hero- 
ism enough to rise, in the most trying and agonizing mo- 
ments, above self, he was also ever solicitous to obviate 
injury to the feelings of others, by destroying doubt, and 
communicating what was pleasant* 

As he felt much relieved, though dreadfully exhausted, 
the evening of this day proved a happy one ; we again 
ventured to indulge in pleasing ideas ; hope again allured 
us; fondly wishing that some great change might be 
wrought by nature, we breathed freely i trusting to Pro- 
vidence, we looked yet to recovery as probable. 



CHAPTER Vh 



THE operation by no means answered the expecta* 
tions so credulously and anxiously formted. Mr. Fox 
was relieved but for a short time ; and 1 began, at length, 
to dread that the event of his dissolution was not far dis- 
tant. His uneasiness became very great, and it was ne- 
cessary to raise him in the bed, and assist him to rise fre- 
quently. I thank God, no mercenary hand approached 
him. Mrs. Fox hung over him every day, with vigilant 
and tender affection : when exhausted, I took her place ; 
and at night, as his disorder grew grievously oppressive, 
a confidential servant and myself shared the watching and 
labours between us. I took the first part, because I read 
to him, as well as gave him medicine or nourishment. 

We continued our reading of Johnson's Live« of the 
Poets. How often, at midnight, has he listened with avi- 
dity, made the remarks that occurred, then apologized to 
me for keeping me from my rest ; but still delighted with 
our reading, would say, " well, you may go on a liul* 

2 M 



274 

more,^' as I assured him that I liked the reading aloud. 
At these times he would defend Johnson, when I blamed 
his severity and unwillingness to allow, and incapacity 
to appreciate, poetical merit ; would refer me to his life of 
Savage, and plainly showed much partiality for Johnson. 
Of Dryden, he was a warm, and almost enthusiastic admi- 
rer. He conversed a great deal about that great English 
poet ; and, indeed, I never perceived, at any time, in him 
a stronger relish for, or admiration of the poets than at this 
afflicting period. ^ I generally read to him till three or 
four in the morning, and then retired for a few hours : 
he showed always great uneasiness at my sitting up, but 
evidently was soothed and gratified by my being with 
him. At first he apologised for my preparing the nou- 
rishment, which he required to be warmed in the night; 
but seeing how sincerely I was devoted to him, he ceased 
to make any remark. Once he asked me, at midnight, 
when preparing chicken panade for him, " Does this amuse 
you ? I hope it does." He was so far from exacting at- 
tendance, that he received every little good office, every 
proper and necessary attention, as a favour and a kindness 
done him. So unvitiated by commerce with mankind, so 
tender, so alive to all the charms of friendship was this 
tixcellent man's heart! His anxiety, also, lest Mrs. Fox's 
health should suffer, was uniformly great till the day he 
«^xpired. 

Lord Holland and general Fitzpatrick, as he grew 
worse, came and resided ^t Chiswick house entirely. Miss 
Fox also remained there. Thus he had around him every* 
day, all he loved most ; and the overwhelming pressure of 
his disorder was as much as possible relieved by the con- 
verse and sight of cherished relatives and friends. Lord 
Holland showed how much he valued such an uncle [ He 
never left him ; the hopes of power, or common allure- 
ments of ambition had no effect upon him. His affec- 
tionate attention to Mr. Fox, and his kindness to all who 
assisted that great manj were endearing in a high degree* 



275 

It is true, the habits of nobility, which render men less 
able to assist themselves or others, precluded very active 
co-operation in the cares necessary for Mr. Fox's repose ; 
but he was always watchful to preclude disturbance, and 
always alive to every wish and look of his noble relative. 
Miss Fox, calm and resigned, grieving, without uttering a 
word, would sit at the foot of his bed, and often remind- 
ed me of the fine heads of females, done by masterly hands, 
to express sorrow, dignity, and faith in God. There was 
no ostentation in the simple and graceful manners of Miss 
Fox : the affecting object of all our cares alone occupied 
her, and if her feelings did not appear so violent as those 
of others, they were more concentrated and more intense. 
In her serenity there was much of Fox ; and her conver- 
sation and the candour of her soul, were grateful to him, 
till pain and uneasiness almost overwhelmed him. 

As he grew worse, his situation became peculiarly distres- 
sing ; the orifice of the puncture did not close, and the water 
accumulating obliged him frequently to rise, and allow it to 
discharge. His restlessness became very great, and his time 
was divided between his arm chair and the bed. Mrs. Fox 
retired early at night, to enable her to rise with the dawn, 
and renew her unceasing cares. The midnight reading 
was now affecting and awful to me. I thought that Mr. 
Fox could not long survive, and I trembled, lest he might 
suddenly expire, while supported in my arms. 

My limbs, at times, tottered under the weight I sustained? 
but the goodness of God, and the strength of my affection for 
Mr. Fox, enabled me to pass through those trying hours, 
without sinking under fatigue or sorrow. What a melancholy 
task to watch by the bedside in the solemn hour of night, of 
an incomparable dying friend ; yet it was soothing to un- 
dergo it all ; to read, till troubled nature snatched a little 
repose ; and to prepare the nourishment, which was often 
required to sustain him. On one occasion, as the increase 



^76 

^nd renewed violence of the complaint had caused him 
to rise at night, whilst I assisted him, and with a napkin 
dried up the water from the orifice, which incommoded 
him, he said, in a low voice, and quite to him^lf, " this 
|s true friendship." 

There was now a plaintiveness in his manner very inte- 
resting, but no way derogating from his fortitude and 
calmness. He did not affect the stoic. He bore his pains 
as a christian and a man. Till the last day, however, I 
do not think he conceived himself in danger. A few 
days before the termination of his mortal career, he said 
to me at night, " Holland thinks me worse than I am ;" 
and, injfact, the appearances were singularly delusive, not^ 
week before he expired. In the day he arpse, and walked 
a little ; and his looks were not ghastly or alarming by 
any means. Often did he latterly walk to his window to 
gaze on the berries of the mountain ash, which hung clus- 
tering on a young tree at Chiswick house : every morn- 
ing he returned to look at it ; he would praise it, as the 
morning breeze rustling shook the berries and leaves ; but 
then the golden sun, which played upon them, and the 
fresh air which comes with the dawn, were to me almost 
heart sickening, though once so delightful : he, whom I 
so much cherished and esteemed, whose kindness had 
been ever unremitting and unostentatious ; he whose so- 
ciety was to me happiness and peace, was not long to en- 
joy this sun and morning air. His last look on that 
mountain ash was his farewell to nature ! 

I continued to read aloud eyery night, and as he occa- 
sionally dropt asleep, I was then left to the awful medita- 
tions incident to such a situation ; no person was awake 
beside myself,- the lofty rooms and hall of Chiswick 
house were silent, and the world reposed. In one of those 
melancholy pauses, I walked about for a few minutes, and 
found myself involuntarily and accidentally in the late 
dutchess of Devonshire's dressing room ; every thing was 



277 

as that amiable and accomplished lady had left it. The mu- 
sic book still open ; the books not restored to their places ; 
a chair, as if she had but just left it, and every mark 
of a recent inhabitant in this elegant apartment. The 
dutchess had died in May, and Mr. Fox had very severe- 
ly felt her loss. Half opened notes lay scattered about. 
The night was solemn and still ; and at that moment, had 
some floating sound of music vibrated through the air, I 
cannot tell to what my feelings would have been wrought. 
Never had I experienced so strong a sensation of the 
transitory nature of life, of the vanity of a fleeting world. 
I stood scarce breathing — heard nothings— listened— death 
and disease in all their terrific forms marshalled themselves 
before me ; the tomb yawned ,* and, oh, God ! what a 
pang was it, that it was opening for him whom I had hoped 
to see enjoying many happy years, and declining in the ful» 
iiess of his glory into the vale of years. Scarcely know- 
ing how I left the dressing room I returned; all was 
still. Mr. Fox slept quietly. I was deluded into a tran- 
quil joy, to find him still alive, and breathing without dif- 
ficulty. His countenance was always serene in sleep ; no 
troubled dreams ever agitated or distorted it ; it was the 
transcript of his guiltless mind. 

During the whole time of my attendance at night on 
Mr. Fox, not one impatient word escaped him, not one 
expression of regret or remorse wandered from his lips. 
Mr. Addison's words, " See ! how a christian can die,'' 
might have been throughout more happily applied at 
Chiswick house, by adding a little to them, — " Behold 
how a patriot and christian can meet his last hour !" 
Could the youth of Britain but have seen the great friend 
to liberty, and the advocate of peace, in his latter days, 
what a lesson would not his calm and dignified deport- 
ment have aff'orded. It is not the minister who carries 
on the public affairs for a series of years, with little bene- 
fit, or perhaps serious detriment to his country, who can, 
in the close pf his days, look around, and say, " I have 



^78 

injured no one ; I have laboured for the happiness of mil- 
lions ; I have never allowed anger, or pride, or the spirit of 
domination, make me forget the interests and feelings of 
others ; I have professed myself a christian, and embroiled 
the human race ;" but it is the dying patriot, who can loudly 
proclaim, that he has done all the good to his country and 
mankind that was possible ; and, in the retrospect of a life 
dedicated to the defence of the rights of mankind, he finds 
no groans come across his ears from incarcerated victims ; 
no shades of oppressed and murdered citizens rise in his 
dim and feeble view, to chase repose from his couch, and 
telHmi^ that though despotic, he was not happy— though 
descending into the tomb, he could not escape the cries of 
the injurfed, or the stings of conscience. 



CHAPTER VIL 



AS Mr. Fox's situation, though not threatening im- 
mediate danger, in the opinion of his physicians, was, 
however, hopeless, as to ultimate cure, and very distress- 
ing to himself, a consultation was held, as to the propriety 
of recurring to some strong remedy, which might afford 
the best chance of effecting a favourable alteration in the 
patient. It was finally decided, and I understood with 
lord Holland's concurrence, that an attempt should be 
made to counteract the violence of the disorder, through 
the medium of the most powerful medicine, which 
science and experience sanctioned as most efficacious in 
desperate cases. It was decided that this (which I con- 
cluded was digitalis, or foxglove, prepared in a liquid 
state) should be administered to Mr. Fox. I heard of this 
determination with a dissatisfaction and sorrow I could 
not well account for. Those who know what it is to linger 
round a departing friend, whether it be that he undertakes 
a long journey, or goes on some perilous service, or se- 
cludes himself in distant retirement from the world, may 
conceive the painful and confused state of my mind at this 
time. My ideas were not well developed, even to myself. 



280 

I wished life to be preserved as long as possible — that 
gratitude and friendship should have watched for years, 
(if a few could yet be gained,) round the couch of the 
great man whose domestic virtues had all shone brighter 
through the clouds of pain and anguish, and the most 
harassing suffering. I thought that alleviation of the dis- 
ease, rather than an impracticable attempt to cope with the 
tremendous enemy which had seized upon him, was 
more desirable. Mrs. Fox and myself v/ere so much ex- 
hausted, and worn out with constant cares, that we scarcely 
knew the nature of the decision. We heard a change of 
medicine was resolved on, but did not then know its 
powerful and extraordinary effects. It is true only a few 
months might have been gained, perhaps six or eight ; 
perhaps less. But I always wished that he should be re- 
moved to St. Anne's Hill, and in this idea Mr. and Mrs. 
Fox both concurred. I do not think his own opinion was 
taken, but it was a case upon which he could not well 
:?orm one. Lord Holland, too, suffered so much at this 
period, that he himself could not decide with the calm- 
ness requisite for so very difficult and painful a question. 
V 

In retiring to St. Anne's Hill a good deal might have 
been accomplished : the history, whose scattered leaves 
lay uncorrected, and unregulated by their author, might 
have received a final revision, and his own directions have 
been taken respecting it. In the intervals of temporary 
ease, his great and prophetic mind might have dictated a 
political testament; and as the negotiation was subse- 
quently soon terminated, his view of future continental 
operations might have been obtained, and have proved of 
incalculable value, and this, to the existing ministry, would 
have been no inconsiderable bequest. What more impor- 
tant than his instructions for Ireland ? His opinion upon 
reform, under new circumstances ? Upon a paper money 
spreading through, and illusively strengthening the meajns 
of the countrv ^ 



281 

The physicians having decided upon the point of ad» 
ministering a strong remedy, I received instructions at 
what time in the morning to give it, and at what intervals. 
The humanity and feeling evinced by all the physicians, 
and peculiarly by Dr. Pitcairn and sir Henry Halford 
(then Dr. Vaughan) left no room to imagine but that they 
had considered the case, not only with judgment, but 
great tenderness for their patient. I incline to the opinion, 
however, that the strong political and moral, as well as 
medical view was not taken, and the importance of Mr. 
Fox's existence to the utmost length which nature would 
permit, was not weighed with the anxiety and veneration 
it merited by the cabinet itself. Lord Fitzwilliam, who 
was most likely to have appreciated the last sentiments of 
the illustrious person concerned, in the light which friend- 
ship and value for his political character demanded, was 
in the country. The other ministers, who were his friends, 
and had been carried into power by his weight, seemed 
unequal to the perplexing difficulties of acting with lord 
Grenville, and consulting the last wishes and sentiments 
of Mr. Fox, as the rule for their conduct, in all future 
emergencies of home, or foreign politics. Doubtless, his 
counsels might have led to their loss of office ; but, had it 
been so, they would have lost their situations with in-; 
finitely greater credit with the public, and satisfaction to 
themselves. 

The night preceding the taking of the fatal medicine^ 
I sat up with him, and read as usual through the chief part 
of it : he was cheerful and easy, and I felt an extraordi- 
nary degree of pleasure from his conversation. We seem- 
ed in this intercourse at Chiswick, to have lived years 
together ; the distance between us had vanished ; I had 
become the friend upon whom at night he could rest his 
head, and feel his pangs diminished. I had been his 
reader, and as the sound of my voice was agreeable to him, 
and often lulled him to rest,, when the prose and poetry I 
read did not catch his attention. His generous and feeliag 

2 N 



282 



heart had beat with grateful throbs on finding himself at- 
tended by no mercenary hand, and his gratitude to me 
was increased, as he knew that Mrs. Fox could repose 
securely upon me, and gain a little rest, so much requir- 
ed in the midst of heart-breaking cares, whilst I watched 
round the bed of her afflicted husband. When fond hope 
would whisper of recovery, I used to think how pleasant 
our future society would be at St. Anne's Hill ; that there, 
withdrawn from the harassment of politics, and the 
drudgery of office, a happier time might a^ait him j and 
that we who had laboured round his pillow, would feel so 
proud and gratified by his restoration to tolerable health, 
that nothing higher of reward could be desired ; that 
friendship would say, we have preserved him ; what fur- 
ther can we wish ? The rapid glance of fancy painted to 
my mind the small circle at St. Anne's, cemented by gra- 
titude, affection, and every tie of friendship. 

Why do I write thus ? Hope had raised the. cup but to 
dash it to the ground ! On this memorable night, I read 
Johnson's Lives of the Poets, and Mr. Fox listened with 
his usual relish, and made those natural and pleasant re- 
marks he was wont to do; and, as usual, he received from 
me the nourishment prepared, with his friendly, and some- 
times jocose manner. As the morning dawned, I looked 
out ; the hour had arrived for administering the medicine, 
an unwillingness of an unaccountable nature held my hand, 
I looked out at the reviving face of the country, the peep- 
ing sun sent forth the first beams of day, brightening the 
grounds and gardens of Chiswick house with his coming 
glory, the morning was lovely, but to me the most melan- 
choly. Mr. Fox slept; I took advantage of the incident 
for delay ; his sleep, how calm and undisturbed ; the golden 
light spread a glow upon his face, a tranquil majesty sat 
on his brow, the innocence of youth played upon his cheek, 
no trace of worldly care was seen ; I would not disturb 
such moments ; I could not force myself to break his 
slumbers. When he awoke, I still lingered ; nor till Mrs, 



283 

Fox arose, and three or four hours had passed beyond the 
appointed time, did I administer the medicine. 

For the first time since his illness had commenced, 
Mr. and Mrs. Fox appeared to think me neglectful. 
Alas ! I trembled with the apprehension that we should 
soon lose him for ever: I dreaded, with strange fore- 
bodings, the termination of all our cares, in the dissolution, 
of the painful, yet pleasing, state of society, in which, if 
there was labour and anxiety, and sorrow, yet Mr. Fox 
was there, and sensible of and alive to the attentions of 
friendship. 

After receiving the medicine several times, he grew 
alarmingly worse ; he was, however, composed, and did 
not complain. Mrs. Fox was now truly an object of 
commiseration ; her anguish was so great, that I felt the 
miseries of the moment increased, by witnessing her sor- 
rows. The distresses of general Fitzpatrick, lord Hol- 
land, and Miss Fox, were silent, deep, and. affecting. 
For myself, the world seemed blackening before me, the 
dreary path was long and lonely, what were ministers and 
courts, and palaces, if Fox ceased to live ? the empty 
gratifications they could confer — what, compared to the 
intercourse of friendship with such a man ? It was evi- 
dent that nature was overwhelmed, and that the remaining 
struggle could not be long. Mr. Bouverie, a young 
clergyman, then in the house, was brought in. Prayers 
were read. Mr. Fox was quiet and resigned, but evi- 
dently disliked speaking. 

A solemn and awful silence prevailed. He now ra- 
pidly grew worse. The night which succeeded was one 
of horror. The worst every moment expected, but an 
invincible degree of fortitude and resignation manifested 
by Mr. Fox : no murmurs, no impatience, at his suffer- 
ings, but an anxiety for Mrs. Fox's health, was predomi- 
nant over every thing. She had nobly endured the long 



2&4 

and distressing fatigues of this melancholy time : he was 
sensible of the exertions she had made ; he knew they were 
beyond her strength; and, in pitying her he forgot all the 
agonies, all the misery, of his bodily state. Late at night 
he sent for lord Holland, and asked, " if there was any 
hopCo" Lord Holland did not flatter him with any, and 
his answer was received with all that quiet magnanimity 
which distinguished Mr. Fox's character, and had per- 
vaded his whole life. Towards morning, his breathing 
was visibly affected. All hope was at an end. Nothing 
remained, but to wait the event. Nature did not strug- 
gle much. Mrs. Fox, Miss Fox, surgeon Hawkins, my- 
self, and one domestic, were alone present. 

The scene which followed was worthy of the illustrious 
name of Fox. As his breathing became painfully diffi- 
cult, he no longer spoke, but his looks— his countenance, 
gradually assumed a sublime, yet tender, air. He seemed 
to regret leaving Mrs. Fox solitary and friendless, and as 
he fixed his eyes repeatedly upon her, threw into them 
such an expression of consolation as looked supernatural : 
there was, also, in it a tender gratitude, which breathed 
unutterable thanks, and to the last, the disinterested and 
affectionate, the dying husband, mourned for another's 
sufferings, and strove to make his own appear light. 
'There was the pious resignation of the christian, who 
fearlessly abandons his fleeting spirit to a merciful Deity, 
visible throughout the day : the unbeliever who " came to 
scoff,'? must have remained to pray. It was now Mr. 
Fox gathered the fruits of his glorious life ; his departure 
was unruffled by remorse, he had sacrificed every thing 
that was personal to his country's good, and found his last 
moments blest by the reflection, that his last effort had 
b^en conformable to the divine religion he professed, to 
^ve peace to an afflicted world. The hovering angel, 
who waited to receive his spirit, saw that he had tarried 
iong enough upon earth : the evening advanced, and sink- 
ing nature announced that his end approached* " I die hap- 



285 

pyy"* said he, fixing again and again, his eyes upon 
Mrs. Fox. 

He endeavoured to speak further — but we could not 
understand his words— he repeated the attempt — I afFect» 
ed to understand him, in order to relieve his anxiety ^1 
" Trotter will tell you^^ turning to Mrs. Fox, were his 
last words ! His countenance grew serene and elevated. 
His arms were a little raised to meet Mrs. Fox's embrace. 
His eyes, full of a celestial lustre, continued bright and 
unclosed; and, as the setting sun withdrew, without dis- 
tortion or struggle, but with the same unchanged looks of 
benignity, resignation, and love, which animated his face 
throughout this mournful day, he expired, leaving our 
sorrow almost obliterated by admiration at his exempla- 
ry and happy end! 



MICELLANEOUS 



FACTS AND OBSERVATIONS. 



MR. FOX expired between five and six in the after- 
noon of the 13th of September, 1806. The To^er guns 
were firing for the capture of Buenos Ayres, as' he was 
breathing his last. The evening was serene, an*d of that 
interesting kind which distinguishes the beginning of Au- 
tumn. It seemed as if circumstances and nature had com- 
bined to render the moment peculiarly solemn ahd affect- 
ing; fresh victories were announcing as this great states- 
man was departing, and the mild beams of the declining 
sun illuminated his chamber with a softened glow. What 
a void, when I beheld the body inanimate and cold ! — The 
countenance remained serene, and full of a sublime and 
tender expression. It is remarkable, too, that it continued 
so for nearly a week, till it became necessary to put the 
body into a shell. As it was suggested to me two or 
three days after his death, that a cast might still be taken 
from the face, a messenger was despatched to Mr. NoUe- 
kens and the attempt was made : it, howevtfr, failed, the 
features had changed and fallen in a considerable degree, 
iind the plan was thus defeated. I understood the result 



288 

was unfavourable, but could not prevail upon myself to 
look at the mask. During the week that the corpse re- 
mained at Chiswick, I every day frequently contemplated 
the countenance of the illustrious departed* 

The same serenity, magnanimity, and feeling, which 
distinguished him alive, were, if possible, more forcibly 
pourtrayed than ever upon his countenance : there was 
also an air of indescribable grandeur spread over it. I 
felt a strange sensation when alone in the apartment with 
the mortal remains of Charles James Fox. 

Perhaps there was more of the moral sublime in this 
than falls commonly to the lot of man to witness and ex- 
perience. The melancholy and solitary feelings I then 
endured, those who have lost beloved friends and relatives, 
will be well able to appreciate : besides, the departure of 
so towering a genius imparted various solemn, and awful 
reflections. 

I then faintly conceived the idea ; and I have since 
frequently wished, that the art of embalming had been 
employed to preserve so very grand a subject for the con- 
templation of the present race, and of the future genera- 
tion. This great and patriotic minister might thus have 
Inspired virtue in the young patriot, or controlled the pro- 
fligate betrayer of his country, by his looks : all who 
viewed his noble countenance, might have drawn lessons 
of benevolence, and disinterestedness from thence, and 
in departing, would hav^e carried away an impression, fa^ 
vourable to humanity, justice, and liberty. 

A recent work on education contains this question : 
"Has not Parr been condemned for praising the virtues 
and talents' of Fox, because in revealing the whole man, 
he stated that Fox disbelieved the miracles and mys- 
teries of religion ?" I have not seen, nor am I now able 
to procure any work of Dr. Parr's relating to Mr. Fox, 



289 



but I am prepared to say that any assertion of his upoti so 
important and delicate a question, does not at all coincide 
with my opinion on this head, if he attempted to state, in 
an unqualified manner, Mr. Fox's disbelief of miracles* 
That great man was too just a reasoner, and too great an 
enemy to dogmatic assertion, to reject the powerful testi- 
mony by which miracles are supported. A casual ex- 
pression is never to be taken for a fixed and serious opi- 
nion, without subsequent and considerable corroboration. 
I recollect being present at a conversation in Stable Yard, 
when Mr. Robertson and, I think, lord Grey were in the, 
room, when the immortality of the soul was touched upon. 
Mr. Fox, then very ill, spoke upon it with that serious- 
ness, and earnestness for demonstration, which marked 
him on all weighty subjects. I perceived no disposition 
to express any arrogant doubts, but, on the contrary, that 
humble and modest tone, which, upon so awful a topic, 
becomes all men. 

Resignation to Providence was a very marked feature 
in Mr. Fox's character. Henever meddled with abstruse 
and mysterious points in religion ; in death, he resigned 
himself to his Creator, with unparalleled calmness and 
magnanimity. Such a man was very little likely to ex- 
press disbelief on a subject vitally connected with Christian- 
ity. I had the satisfaction and happiness of enjoying his 
most intimate society for a great part of the last eight 
years of his life, and I never heard an expression — I nevei; 
observed the slightest inclination tending to such doubt 
or disbelief. On the contrary, it will be found that as 
all his political conduct was consonant to the purest and 
most benevolent conception of Christianity, so, even in 
death, he maintained the same tenour and tone of mind. 

Mrs. Fox, I am satisfied, is quite competent to corrobo- 
rate every word I have written, and I much regret that 
•jjdiscreet, and injudicious friendship should have disturb- 
gj| his ashes, by bringing forward a vague opinion, which, 

^ o 



290 



if eren ooce entertamed, I can testify, was not Utteiij 
adhered to. I have, however, giren strong grounds for 
drawing deductioos qoite contradictory to diose of Dr. 
Parr. fiir. Fox, in his whole manners, conduct, and last 
moments, gave me the dearest, and most plei^ing idea 
of a sincere and true Christian, that I ever imbibed. 

It is but little known that Mr. Fox's body was opened 
after his death. The result was, that the iiver was found 
greatly diseased, and what is termed scbriioas : all other 
rital and nobSe parts, I was infwmed by sargeoe Hawkms, 
were so«md and unimpaired, so :^ to hare insured a laag 
and Tigorous cdd age. It will be recollected dkat Mr. 
Fox liims*4f suggested to die pby^cians, the pbm of writ- 
ing and seaUng up medical f^inions, and c^iening them 
s£bET the di^yase and inspection of die subject upon which 
they had hesa pronounced. This suggestion was not f(d> 
lowed, in his own case, and I regret that it was not : it 
eiisced as mcdi wisdcm and penetration as it did magna- 
mmitr and love far his f&Qow-creatnres : he seemed de^- 
jous that science might be improved by correcting uncer- 
taintr as much as pos»ble, and seemed to oSei bim-sHf as 
a subject to begin widi, for the goieral good. Why b 
anatxmiy incGBtestably of the utmost servicre to the human 
Tace ? For exacdy the same reascm which af^ieared to hare 
isfioenced Mr. Fox's mind, when t^ped the second time 
at Chiswick bouse. His nund always sought for demon- 
stiatioa, and, even beyond the tomb, he seems to have 
pCMDted die way to improvements in medicine, and to phy- 
acians correcting their own errors. • As his liver was 
found irretrievably diseased, I am inclined to think that 
the most violent medidne was improper; because pro- 
iottgatkm of exbtencre might have been attained, aid per- 
fect reccvenr could not. It has happened to uk since, to 
administer a great deal of iBgiia£s (under the direction of 
a physician) to a young man attacked by ague, and threat- 
ened by impen<iing consumption. We thought him dyiqg, 
but he recovered ; he was, however, yomig. and sot ma- 



291 

Serially affected in any vital part. In ordinary cases, it 
may be right for physicians to try the most powerful 
medicines, if a case seem hopeless, because it may be a 
beneficial experiment, and be little prejudicial to any one; 
but in this instance of Mr. Fox, the prolongation of his 
invaluable existence, was so incalculably important, that 
the welfare of the community, in a political view, should 
have superseded medical experiments and its chances. 

As the facts ascertained, by opening the body, proved, 
that a radical cure was quite hopeless, I request that I 
may not be considered as unnecessarily stirring this topic. 
I write for mankind and posterity. Other great charac- 
ters may be similarly circumstanced with Mr. Fox: a 
moral and medical view of circumstances may clash. Let 
physicians, therefore remember the statesman, and prefer 
the greater to the smaller object. As Mr. Fox's age was 
not more than fifty-seven, and his constitution a very vi- 
gorous one, there is some reason to think he might have 
enjoyed a meliorated, and not very distressing, state of 
health for a considerable time, if the palliative, rather than 
experimental course, had been pursued. The questiou 
certainly admits of doubt, but, in my view, I am sure the 
friend or the statesman would prefer the former. 

I cannot be presumed to know the quantity of digitalis 
administered, nor is it at all necessary to state it. That 
powerful medicine is given usually, I believe, in drops 
proportioned to the strength, age, and state of the patient* 
Mr. Fox's disorder had made its first appearance about 
three years before his death, or between two and three 
years, as I am well informed. That was the time to have 
applied powerful remedies with good hopes of ultimate 
success ; but he himself was not then (or any of his family 
or friends) aware of his situation. When the disorder 
finally forced him to notice it, by the pain and uneasy sen- 
sations attending its latter stages, it came like a deluge 
upon him. I apprehend it had proceeded too f^r, and 



292 

that his period of life was too advanced to admit of radi- 
cal cure. It is surprising that he had not himself consult- 
ed some physician of eminence, on the slightest symptom 
of so alarming a disorder, as that which carried him to 
the grave ; but he was nothing timorous, nothing selfish, 
and disregarded what would have alarmed others. 

For persons who were eye witnesses of the last melan" 
choly ceremonies bestowed on the mortal remains of Mr* 
Fox, little is necessary to be recorded : but for those who 
live in the distant parts of the empire, and those who may 
hereafter peruse with interest every thing relative to that 
great man, some information may be desirable. I have, 
therefore, thought it not right to omit particulars which, 
though peculiarly painful to myself to revive, must be 
matter of ngitural curiosity and inquiry, now and hereafter^ 
-I am quite convinced that the last words, or I may say, 
eiforts, of Mr. Fox, were directed to the object of depo- 
siting his remains at Chertsey. He would, from his cha- 
racter, and from his peculiar way of thinking on those 
subjects, I am certain, have desired, in his own instance, 
to have avoided all ostentation and pomp as to a funeral 
or burying place. The vicinity of Chertsey to his beloved 
St. Anne's Hill, and the fond wish that Mrs. Fox's re- 
mains might one day be laid beside his, would have been 
strong motives with him for expressing a wish to be in- 
terred at Chertsey. I know of no other idea that he 
Avould have been so likely to cherish in his departing 
moments. His earnestness, and expressive manner, have 
left a lasting impression upon me, but I was too agitated 
and oppressed with sorrow to reflect sufficiently upon what 
-was, most probably, his thoughts at such an awful mo- 
ment. 

He addressed himself exclusively to Mrs. Fox, and his 

countenance evidently spoke something tender and do- 

^m^slic ; something connected with his awful and melan- 

;€iioly state, and with her future gratification^ I dread 



293 

even now distressing the feelings of his relict, but every thing 
which throws light on a character so noble as that of Mr. 
Fox, is too valuable and interesting to be withheld. There 
is no circumstance which pourtrays the simplicity and 
amiable cast of it more than this ; that, at the last hour, 
he should desire his remains to be withdrawn from the 
pomp, and crowds of the metropolis, from the reverential 
honours of a great nation, and wish them to be conducted 
with silence and modesty, to those rural abodes he had so 
long and so warmly admired ; to be placed near St. AnneV 
Hill, and in imagination to watch over the cares and sor- 
rows of her he had truly adored ;) to wait with fond im- 
patience till the remains of both were united in the grave. 
Here was Mr. Fox's genuine character eminently display- 
ed — and at the very moment preceding his last sigh. 

If the beautiful scripture expression — " Lord let me 
die the death of the righteous, and let my last end be like 
his," was ever more strongly exemplified in one instance 
than in another, it was in the last moments of Mr. Fox; 
resignation, magnanimity, and faithful conjugal affection, 
marked them in so happily, and beautifully blended com- 
bination, that I can imagine no finer subject for the painter 
and the poet, than a just delineation of that affecting hour, 
when Mr. Fox took his farewell of this earthly scene ; the 
dying look which turned towards home, and all its past 
endearments, and which said, " lay me near our dear and 
long-cherished retreat," is beyond the power of ordinary 
words, or even of the magic sister arts to convey ! ^ 

At it was decided by Mr. Fox's friends, and was the 
general wish that his funeral should be a public one, and 
as his own wishes were not, or could not be known re- 
specting it, interment in Westminster Abbey was deter- 
mined upon. The body was removed to the house re- 
cently occupied by him in Stable Yard, and since the 
areside;ice of the duke of York, and the prince regent, and it 



2n 

remained there three weeks, until all due preparations 
had been made, under the direction of Mr. Sheridan, for 
the funeral. This gloomy and cheerless period was less 
distressing than the final parting with all that remain- 
ed, of what I had cherished and revered in life; a- 
bove all things, I had a melancholy gratification in having 
my bed in the adjoining room, and in eating my meals in 
it. The sound of carriages rolling to cabinet dinners, was 
often a subject for contemplation in this period, and I was 
often induced to remark how soon the great and good are 
forgotten by man, when power deserts them, or life is ex- 
tinct. Lord Holland, by calling frequently, manifested 
an affectionate disposition towards his revered uncle, and 
due regard to his memory, as well as gratitude to those 
attached to him. 

The morning of the funeral brought crowds, so alarm- 
ing in point of numbers, that we feared the gardens and 
house might be suddenly filled. Every precaution was 
taken to prevent this, and with complete success. I re- 
ceived a melancholy satisfaction from beholding the as- 
semblage, which filled every apartment of the house, the 
court-yard, and the garden. The nobles of the landj 
distinguished commoners, men of genius and talent from 
all quarters, great landed proprietors, all the genuine lovers 
of liberty, all the friends to science, and vast numbers of 
individuals, of the most respectable situations, were 
gathered together, to pay the last tribute of veneration and 
affection to the illustrious deceased. 

Sorrow sat on every countenance, silence and order 
reigned everywhere ; and no regulation was wanting for 
men, who in walking, almost dreaded to create noise* 
Friendship, genuine friendship, poured her unaffected 
tears over the mighty dead ; never was a scene more 
solemn and more affecting ! It was understood, that the 
heir apparent to the throne, faithful in his friendship to 
the latest hour, and filled with the deepest sorrow, WQi^^ 



^95 



have attended the bier to the grave, would indispensable 
etiquette have allowed him. As the body was raised 
upon the lofty car, almost awful from its size and simp- 
licity, the sorrowing multitude received it with affection 
and grief united ; but the language of the heart was all 
that was spoken. 

The followers of Fox to the grave wer^ the collected, 
and unbought men of rank, genius, and virtue, from all 
parts of the empire : England was foremost ; she esti- 
mated him truly, but too late for her own happiness ; and 
Scotland gave her tribute of respect: and Ireland, un- 
happy Ireland, sent her drooping sons to mourn around, 
to follow the bier of the great English patriot, the mag» 
nanimous champion of civil and religious liberty. 

Slowly the vast procession passed ; the streets, the 
windows, the tops of the houses, the avenues, were crowd- 
ed with sympathizing spectators. Three nations mourned 
with sincere sorrow, for the great minister and statesman 
who was borne along. Not a word was heard, persons of 
rank and fortune walked in the procession, peers and com- 
moners, and relatives of the deceased, alone went in car- 
riages. All was decorous ; and one sentiment govern- 
ed, pervaded, aud softened this immense multitude. Fox 
was lost, and mankind mourned. Never was the solemn 
march of a vast concourse of people more sublime and 
interesting. 

As the great bell of the Abbey tolled, the procession 
entered the yard ; it moved softly up the aisle ; the grave 
appeared ! Oh ! best and most valuable of men, what 
was the anguish of sincere and grieving friendship at that 
sight ! All suspense was now at an end ; the last link was 
to be broken; the earth was to hide from the view the 
remains which every relative and friend still fondly hung 
over ! The service, solemn and impressive, gave a short 
delay ; all the amiable, all the admirable qualities of the 



29§ 

departed, rushed upon every mind : youth had viewed 
him as a father and a friend ; adult and mature age, as a 
guide, protector, and instructor ; liberty sighed over his 
grave, and religion bent over the ashes of him who had 
ever revered her truths, had never infringed her sacred 
rights, or trampled on her usages and laws. 

The grave closed, the crumbling earth hid from anx,- 
ious eyes the remains of Fox ! An exhausted, and lan- 
guid concoursb returned to their homes, pondering on the 
melancholy void left in the world ; and feeling, that every 
one had lost, in this great man, a guardian and a friend. 

^ ^ ^ '^ tF TV" w tS tP tP 



THE END. 



PART in. 



ORIGINAL LETTERS. 



2 t 



LETTER L 



My Dear Sir, 

I do assure you, your letter of the 28th ultimo^ 
g^ve both Mrs. F. and myself the highest satisfaction, as 
it was a long time since we had heard from you, and had 
learned from Bob that you had been very ill. He is not 
now here, but the next time I see him, I will tell him how 
shabby it is of him not to write to you. 

I am sorry to hear your account of the people of the 
north, and I think tl^ey are bad politicians not to see that 
the support of the anti-unionists would infallibly lead to 
the procuring of the substance, instead of the name of a 
parliament. The anti-unionists must feel (and this was 
my opinion before their defeat on lord Corry's motion) 
that they are far too weak to struggle against our minister, 
without the assistance of the people ; and, consequently, 
they must accede to reform of parliament, catholic eman- 
cipation, and, in one word, to a real and substantial repre- 
sentation of the people, which must produce a government 
as popuUir and democratic sis any government ought to bco 
As things are, I am afraid they will fail for Want of sup- 
port, and that even the union itself may be forced upon 



300 



you; and then the consequences, either way, will be 
dreadful indeed. 

We are very glad you think of being in England in 
April, when I hope you will come and hear our night- 
ingales. We have had a great deal of bad weather, but it is 
growing better, and the crocuses, snowdrops, &c. are 
giving us, every day, beautiful indications of approaching 
spring. Mrs. F. desires to be kindly remembered to 
you. 

I am, my dear sir, 

Your's ever, 

C. J. FOX- 

St. Anne's Hilh 2Xst Feb. 99. 

John B, Trotter^ Esq, Vianstown^ 
near Downpatricky Ireland* 



LETTER ir. 



Dear Sir, 

I received by Tuesday's coach your pamphlet 
upon the union, and your verses, for which Mrs. F. parti- 
cularly desires me to thank you ; we both like them 
very much. I think you put your objections to the union 
entirely upon the right grounds ; whether there is spirit 
in Ireland to act up to your principles, is another questione 
I do not know whether you ever heard that it is a com- 
mon observation, that Irish orators are generally too figura- 
tive in their language for the English taste ; perhaps I think 
parts of your pamphlet no exception to this observation ^ 
but this is a fault (if it be a fault) easily mended. 

As to Italian, I am sure, from what you said, that you 
5tre quite far advanced enough, to make a master, an unne- 
cessary trouble and expense ; and therefore it is no ex- 
cuse for your not coming, especially as it is a study in 
which I can give you, and would certainly give you with 



302 

pleasure, any assistance you could wish. In German, the 
case is, to be sure, quite different, as I do not know a word 
of it, nor have any German books; of Italian, you know 
we have plenty. 

I am sure I need not tell you, that whenever you do 
come, you will be welcome. 

Tour's ever, 

C. J. FOX. 

St. Anne's Hil!^ 
Thursday* 



LETTER III. 



I KNOW of no better, tior, indeed, scarce any other 
life of Cicero, than Middleton's. He is certainly very par- 
tial to him, but upon the whole, I think Cicero was a good 
man. The salutary effect of the burning of his houses, 
which you mention, is indeed too evident; I do not think 
quite so ill of his poem on Caesar as you do ; because I 
presume he only flattered him upon the points where he 
really deserved praise ; and as to his flatteries of him 
after he was dictator, in his speeches for Ligarius and 
Marccllus, I not only excuse, but justify ,and even com- 
mend them, as they were employed for the best of pur- 
poses, in favour of old friends, both to himself and to the 
republic. Nay, I even think that his manner of recom- 
mending to Csesar (in the pro Marcello) the restoration 
of the republic, is even bold and spirited. After all, he 
certainly was a man liable to be warped from what was 
right either by fear or vanity ; but his faults seem so clear- 
ly to have been infirmities, rather than bad principles, or 
bad passions, that I cannot but like him, and, in a great 
measure, esteem him too. The openness with which, in 
his private letters, he confesses himself to be ashamed of 
part of his conduct, has been taken great advantage of by 



304 

detractors, as an aggravation, whereas I think it a great 
extenuation of his faults. I ought to caution against 
trusting to the translations in Middleton ; they are all 
vile, and many of them unfaithful. 

If your sister does not understand Latin, you should 
translate them for her yourself* I do assure you, my 
dear sir, it always gives 3VIrs. F. and me great pleasure to 
hear from you, and especially when it is to inform us that 
you are well and happy* 

Your*s ever, 

C, J. Fc 



LETTER IV. 



I WAS much gratified, my dear sir, with your letter, as 
your taste seems so exactly to agree with mine; and am 
very glad, for your sake, that you have taken to Greek, as 
it will now be very easy to you, and if I may judge from 
myself, will be one of the greatest sources of amusement 
to you. Homer and Ariosto have always been my favour- 
ites ; there is something so delightful in their wonderful 
facility, and the apparent absence of all study, in their ex- 
pression, which is almost peculiar to them. I think you must 
be very partial, however, to find but two faults in the twelve 
books of the Iliad. The passage in the 9th book, about 
Atiiri^ appears to me, as it does to you, both poor and 
forced ; but I have no great objection to that about the 
wall in the 12th, though, to be sure, it is not very necessa- 
ry. The 10th book has always been a particular favourite 
with me, not so much on account of Diomede's and Ulys- 
ses's exploits, (though that part is excellent too) as on ac- 
count of the beginning, which describes so forcibly the 
anxious state of the generals, with an enemy so near, and 
having had rather the worst of the former day. I do not 
know any description any where that sets the thing so 
rlearly before one; and then the brotherly feelings of 
Agamemnon towards Menelaus, and the modesty and 

2 CL 



306 

aminbleness of Menelaus's character, (whom Homer, by 
the way seems to be particularly fond of) are very afFecting« 
Ariosto has certainly taken his night expedition either from. 
Homer, or from Virgil's Nisus or Euryalus. I scarcely 
know which I prefer of the three; I rather think Virgil's i 
but Ariosto has one merit beyond the others, from the im« 
portant consequences which arise from it to the story. Tas- 
so (for he, too, must have whatever is in the Iliad or iEneid) 
is a very poor imitation, as far as I recollect. 

I suppose, as soon as you have done the the Iliad you 
will read the Odyssey ; which, though certainly not so 
fine a poem, is to my taste, still pleasanter to read. Pray 
let me know what parts of it strike you most, and believe 
me you cannot oblige me more than by corresponding on 
such subjects. Of the other Greek poets, Hesiod, Pindar,, 
Eschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, AppoUonius, Rhodius, 
and Theocritus, are the most worth reading. Of the trage- 
dians, I like Euripides the best ; but Sophocles "is, I be- 
lieve, more generally preferred, and is certainly more 
finished, and has fewer gross faults. Theocritus, in his 
way, is perfect ; the two first Idylls, particularly, are ex- 
cellent. I suppose the ode you like is a5«»/» « Kv8j>g»^ which 
is pretty enough, but not such as to give you any adequate 
idea of Theocritus. There is an elegy upon Adonis, by 
Bion, which is in parts very beautiful, and particularly 
somes lines of it upon the common-place of death, which 
have been imitated over and over again, but have never 
been equalled. In Hesiod, the account of Pandora, of the 
golden age, &c. and some other parts, are very good; but 
there is much that is tiresome* Perhaps the work, which 
is most generally considered as not his, I mean the Atttk, 
is the one that has most poetry in it. It is very good, and 
to say that it is inferior to Homer's and Virgil's shields, 
is not saying much against it. Pindar is too often obscure, 
and sometimes much nwre spun out and wordy than suits 
my taste ; but there are passages in him quite divine. I 
have not read above half his works^ Appollpnius Rhodius 



301 

1!?, I think, very well worth reading. The beginning of 
Media's love is, I believe, original, and though often co- 
pied since, never equalled. There are many other fine 
parts in his poem, besides some of which Virgil has im- 
proved, others scarce equalled. There is, however, in 
the greater part of the poem an appearance of labour, and 
a hardness, that makes it tiresome. He seems to me to 
be an author of about the same degree of genius with 
Tasso; and if there is more in the latter to be liked, there 
is nothing I think, to be liked in him so well as the partes 
of AppoUonius to which I have alluded. I have said 
nothing of Aristophanes, because I never read him.^ Calli- 
machus and Moschus are worth reading; but there is little 
of them. By the way, I now recollect that the passage 
about death, which I said was in Bion's elegy upon Ado- 
nis, is in Moschus's upon Bion. Now you have all my 
knowledge about Greek poetry. I am quite pleased at 
your liking Ariosto so much ; though indeed I foresaw 
you would, from the great delight you expressed at Spen- 
ser, who is certainly inferior to him, though very excellent 
too. Tasso, I think below both of them, but many count 
him the first among those three ; and even Metastasio, 
who ought to be a better judge of Italian poetry than you 
or I, gives him upon the whole the preference to Ariosto« 

You will, of course, have been rejoiced at the peace, as 
we all are. Mrs. F. desires to be remembered to you 
kindly. She is very busy just now, but will write to you 
soon. I think this place has looked more beautiful than 
ever this year, both in spring and summer, and so it does 
now in autumn, I have been very idle about my history, 
but I will make up for it bye and bye ; though I believe I 
must go to Paris, to look at some papers there, before I 
can finish the first volume. I think in the last half of the 
Iliad you will admire the 16th, 20th, 22d, and 24th, books 
particularly. I believe the general opinion is, that Homer 
did write near the shore, and he certainly does, as you ob- 
serve, particularly delight in illustrations taken from the 



308 



sea, waves, &c. Perhaps a lion is rather too frequent a 
simile with him. I dare say you were delighted with 
Helen and Priam on the walls in the 3d book ; and I sus- 
pect you will.be proportionably disgusted with Tasso's 
servile and ill-placed imitation of it. Do not imagine, 
however, that I am not sensible to many beauties in Tasso, 
especially the parts imitated by Spenser, Erminia's flight 
and adventure, the description of the pestilence, and many 
others. 

I am, dear Sir, 

Most truly, 
Your's ever, 
C. J. FOX. 
St, Anne*s Hill^ 
Monday, 



{Post Mark^ Oct, 20, 1801.) 



LETTER V 



My DEAR Sir, 

I am quite scandalized at having so long 
delayed answering your letters, but I put it ofF, as I am 
apt to do every thing, from day to day, till Christmas ; 
and on that day Mrs. F. was taken very seriously ill with 
a fever, and sore throat of the inflammatory kind. The 
violence of the disorder was over this day se'nnight, but 
though she has been mending ever since, she is still weak. 
However, she may now be called comparatively speaking, 
quite well ; and I did not like to write till I could tell you 
that she was so. I hope you go on with your Greek, and 
long to know whether you are as fond of the Odyssey as I 
am, as also what progress you have made in the other 
poets. The Plutarchus, whom you ask after, is, I believe, 
the same Plutarch who wrote the lives, and who certainly 
was of Chseronea. At least, I never heard of any other au- 
thor of that name, and he Wrote many philosophical 
works. I think when you say you despise Tasso, you go 
further than I can do ; and though there is servility in his 
manner of imitation, which is disgusting, yet it is hardly 
fair to be angry with him for translating a simile of 
Homer's, a plunder, if it be onej of which nearly every 



310 



poet has been guilty. If there be one who has not, I sus^ 
pect it is he whom you say you are going to read, I mean 
Dante. I have only read part of Dante, and admire him 
very much. I think the brilliant passages are thicker set 
in his works, than in those of almost any other poet, but 
thewant of connexion and interest makes him heavy ; and, 
besides, the difficulty of his language, which I do not 
tliink much of, the obscurity of that part of history to 
which he refers, is much against him. His allusions, in 
which he deals not a little, are, in consequence, most of 
them lost. 

I agree in liking Armida, but cannot help thinking Ri- 
naldo's detention in his gardens very inferior to Ruggiero's. 

Or fino agli occhi ben nuota nel golfo 
Delle delizie e delle cose belle. 

May seem to some an expression rather too familiar, and 
nearly foolish ; but it is much better for describing the 
sort of situation in which the two heroes are supposed to 
be, than the Romito Amante of Tasso ; not to mention 
the garden of Armida being all on the inside of the 
palace, and walled round by it, instead of the beautiful coun- 
try described by Ariosto. Do you not think, too, that 
Spenser has much improved upon Tasso, by giving the 
song in praise of pleasure to a nymph rather than to a 
parrot ? Pray, if you want any information about Greek 
poets or others, that I can give you, do not spare me, for 
it is a great delight to me to be employed upon such sub- 
jects, with one who has a true relish for them. 

I do not wonder at your passionate admiration of the 
Iliad, and agree with you as to the peculiar beauty of most 
of the parts you mention. The interview of Priam and 
Achilles is, I think, the finest of all. I rather think, that 
in Andromache's first lamentation, she dwells too much 
upon her child, and too little upon Hector, but may be 
I am wrong. By your Referring to the 4th book only for 



511 

Agamemnon's brotherly kindness, I should almost suspect 
that you had not snfficiently noticed the extreme delicacy 
and kindness with which he speaks of him in the loth, v. 
120, &c. 

We have not at all fixed our time for going to Paris 
yet. Mrs. F. desires to be most kindly remembered to 
you. 

I am very truly, 

My dear Sir, your's ever, 

C. J. FOX. 

P. S. I do not know which is the best translation of 
Don Quixote ; I have only read Jarvis's, which I think 
very iudifferent. I like Feijoo very much when I read 
him, but I have not his works. 



LETTER VL 



My Dear sm, 

YOU made Mrs. F. and me very happy by 
letting us know you had had so pleasant a tour, and that 
your sister and yourself were so well after your fatigues ; 
though we both think your walks on some days must have 
been too long. I am not sorry that Mrs. F. who is very 
busy to-day, has commissioned me to answer your letter 
for her, as it gives me an opportunity of mentioning some» 
thing to you which I have had in my head some time. 
We are, as you know, going abroad soon, chiefly on ac- 
count of some state papers which are at Paris, and which 
it is necessary for me, with a view to my history, to inspect 
carefully ,* but we also think of taking in our way a tour 
through Flanders to Spa. It has sometimes occurred to 
me, that this would not be a bad opportunity for you to 
gratify a curiosity, which you can scarcely be without, of 
seeing something on the continent, and Paris particularly. 
We have a place in our carriage, and of course you would 
be our guest, when at Spa, Paris, &c. I am sure it will 
be an additional motive with you to know that, besides 
the pleasure of your company, your assistance in examin- 
ing and extracting from the papers at Paris, would be 
materially useful to me i but I vrould by no means have this 



313 

consideration weigh with you, unless the plan is otherwise 
suitable and agreeable to you. I cannot yet determine 
our precise time of setting out, as it depends upon some 
business, not altogether in my own power ; but I should 
think, not sooner than the 15th, nor later than the 30th of 
next month, and I hope to be back about Michaelmas. 
I need not say that, if you do think of coming with us, with 
respect to a week or two, we would adapt our time to 
your's ; only it is so great an object with me to be at 
home very early in October, if not in September, that X 
cannot put off our departure long. 

If I hear any thing within these few days (which is not 
unlikely) which may make me more able to fix what 
time will be most convenient to me, I will let you know 
without waiting for your answer. I think you were in 
gre^t luck to have had fine weather on your journeys, 
for we have had a great deal of bad here, though not 
very lately. You never told me how you liked the 
last half of the Odyssey ; I think the simplicity of all 
the part with the swine herd, &c. is delightful, though 
some persons account it too low. Did you observe in one 
passage, that the suitors have exactly the Scotch second 
sight ^ 

Your's ever, 

C. J. FOX« 
St. Anne*s Hilly 
Thursday, 

{Post Mark, July Sthy 1^02.) 



2r 



LETTER Vlh 



My Dear S;r, 

I received yesterday your letter of the 28th, 
^hich seems to have been a good while upon the road. 
We are very happy at the thoughts of your accompanying 
us, arid I make no doubt but we shall have a pleasant tour. 
Do not by any means hurry yourself, as I think the 18th 
or 19th of the month will be the earliest day on which we 
possibly can set out, but I will write again on Tuesday 
(the day of my election) from London, by which time 
I inay be able to tell you something more certain, and at 
any rate you will not be too late by waiting for that letter. 
Mrs. F. desires to be kindly remembered. 

Your's ever, 

C. J. FOX. 
St Anne^s Hill^ 
4ith Jidifo 



LETTER VIIL 



My Dear Sir, 

I had intended to write yesterday, thinking 1 should 
have no opposition here, and that of course I could tell you, 
with some certaiaty, the day of our setting out ; but there 
is an opposition, which, though foolish and contemptible to 
the last degree, may occasion the poll to be protracted, 
which leaves me in great uncertainty. At all events, the 
21st is the earliest day I can think of, even upon the sup- 
position that this business is over this week ; if it lasts, our 
journey cannot take place till the 29th or 30th ; however, 
I will write to you again to-morrow or next day. Write a 
line, directed to St. Anne's Hill ; or set out, and make up 
your mind to the chance of being kept some days in this 
vile place ; at St Anne's, I know you would not mind 
It. 

Your's ever, 

C. J. FOXe 

Shakspeare Tavern^ 
Cment Garden^ 7th July^ 

Numbers. Fox, 504» 

Gardensr, 401, 
Graham^ 193. 



LETTER IX. 



Shakspeare^ 
Covent Gardeuy 9th "July. 

My Dear Sie, 

Though this vile election is not over, nor will 
be, I believe, for some time, yet I can now fix the time of ouif 
departure, with a reasonable certainty, for the 23rd of 
24th of this month. I have no time to write more, 

Your's ever, 

€• J. FOX 

KumWs- Fox, 1194. 

Gardener, 1081, 
Graham, 533. 

I shall go to St. Anne's Hill to-morrow, and only come 
here occasionally, next week. 



LETTER X. 



Paris ^ October 27th. 
IVIy Dear Sir, 

Mrs. Fox has had two letters from you, one 
from Dover, which was longer coming than any letter ever 
was, and one from Chester, and desires me to thank you 
for her, though she has no excuse, that I know of, expect 
idleness, for not doing so herself. She has had another 
bad cold, with rheumatism, but is, thank God, nearly welL 
We do not wonder at your finding the difference between 
French and English manners, in casual acquaintance, very 
great ; and I doubt much, whether we have any great 
superiority in more intimate connexions, to compensate 
our inferiority in this respect ; you remember, no doubt, 
Cowper's character of us in the Task ; it is excellent. 

I do not think we have seen any thing worth mentioning 
since you went, or rather since Mrs. F# wrote to you 
after her presentation; only we were one day at Rainey„ 
formerly the duke of Orleans's, which, though in a state 
©f neglect, is still very beautiful. We have seen Madame 



318 

Duchesnois again, in Roxane, in Bajazet, and either the 
part suited her better than the others, or she is very much 
improved. My work is finished and Ave stay now only 
in expectation of my brother, who writes word that he 
will be here the 2d of November; we shall, of course, 
stay some days with him, and set out, I think, the 7th. 
I have made visits to your friends the consuls, and dined 
with Le Brun ; he seems heavy, but if he is the author, 
as they say he is, of the chancellor Maupeoux's ad- 
dresses to the parliament at the end of Louis XVIth's 
reign, it must be his situation that has stupified him, for 
they are very good indeed. As you had a curiosity 
about an overturn, it is very well it was satisfied at so 
cheap a rate. We shall be very glad to hear that your 
mode of travelling has been attended with no worse 
consequences. 

I suppose you will now go in earnest to law. I do 
not know much of the matter, but I suspect that a regular 
attendance (and with attention) to the courts, is still more 
important than any reading whatever ; you, of course, 
read Blackstone over and over again ; and if so, pray tell 
me whether you agree with me in thinking his style of Eng- 
lish the very best among our modern writers ; always easy 
and intelligible ; far more correct than Hume, and less 
studied and made up than Robertson. It is a pity you 
did not see, while you were here, Villerson, the great 
Grecian, if it were only for the purpose of knowing how 
fast it is possible for the human voice to go without indis- 
tinctness. I believe he could recite the whole Iliad in 
four hours. He has a great deal of knowledge of all 
kinds, and it is well he has, for, at his rate, he would run 
out a moderate stock in half an hour. I hope soon to 
hear you are got safe to Dublin ; direct your next to St* 
Anne's Hill, where we hope to be by the 13th of next 
month. I find the baronet and Grattan are both in 
England, so I have no message to send to your country^ 



319 

We have just begun the Roman comique, and have al« 
ready found the originals of several of Fielding's bloody 
noses, &c. which made you so angry. We are just going 
io pay a visit to the museum. 

Your affectionate friends, 

C. J. FOX- 

E. FOX. 

Hotel de Richelieu, 28th Oct. 



LETTER XIIL 



My Dear Sir, 

Pray do not think you trouble me, but quite 
the contrary, by writing to me, and especially on the sub- 
ject of your poetical studies. What I do not like in your 
letter is, your account of yourself; and I am afraid a 
winter in Dublin, which may be so useful to you in other 
respects, may not be quite so well for your health ; which, 
after all, is the grand article. Mrs. F. has not written 
lately, because you had not told her how to direct ; and 
as she had not heard of your receiving the last letter she 
directed to Glasnevin, she feared that might not do. She 
desires me to say every thing that is kind to you. 

I am very glad you prefer Euripides to Sophocles, be- 
cause it is my taste ; though I am not sure that it is not 
thought a heresy. He (Eur.) appears to me to have 
much more of facility and nature in his way of writing, 
than the other. The speech you mention of Electra is, 
indeed, beautiful ; but when you have read some more of 
Euripides, perhaps you will not think it quite unrivalled* 
Of all Sophocles's plays, I like Electra clearly the best, 
and I think your epithet to Oed. Tyrs. a very just one 5 
it is really to me a disagreeable play ; and yet there are 



321 

many who not only prefer it to Electra, but reckon it the 
finest specimen of the Greek theatre. I like his other two 
plays upon the Theban story both better, i. e. the Oed. 
Col. and the Antigone. In the latter there is a passage 
in her answer to Cicero that is, perhaps, the sublimest in 
the world ; and, in many parts of the play there is a spirit 
almost miraculous, if, as it is said, Sophocles, was past 
eighty when he composed it. Cicero has made great use 
of the passage I allude to, in his oration for Milo. I 
suppose you selected Hipp, and Iph. in Aulis, on account 
of Racine ; and I hope you have observed with what ex- 
treme judgment he has imitated them. In the character 
of Hipp, only, I think he has fallen short of his original. 
The scene of Phedra's discovery of her lo\^e to her nurse, 
he has imitated pretty closely ; and if he has not surpassed 
it it is only because that was impossible. His Clytem- 
nestra too, is excellent, but would have been better if he 
had ventured to bring on the young Orestes as Eur. does. 
The change which you mention in the Greek Iphigenia, I 
like extremely ; but it is censured by Aristotle as a change 
of character, not, I think, justly. Perhaps, the sudden 
change in Menelaus, which he also censures, is less defen- 
sible. Now, though the two plays of Eur. which you 
have read, are undoubtedly among his best, I will venture 
to assure you, that there are four others you will like full 
as well ; Medea, Phcenissae, Heraclidoi;, and Alcestis ; wifti 
the last of which, if I know any thing of your taste, you 
will be enchanted, Many faults are found with it, but 
those faults lead to the greatest beauties. For instance, 
if Hercules's levity is a little improper in a tragedy, his 
shame afterwards, and the immediate consequence of that 
shame being a more than human exertion, afford the finest 
picture of an heroic muid that exists. The speech be- 
ginning » TToXKet. TX««rrt «et§^/«j &c. is divine. Besides the two 
you have, and the four I have recommended, Hercules 
Furens, Iph. in Tauris, Hecuba, Bacch^, and Troacles, 
are all very excellent. Then come Ion, Supplices, Elec- 
tra and Helen; Orestes and Andromache are, in mjr 

2 ^ 



S22 



judgment, the worst. I have not mentioned Rhesus and 
Cyclops, because the former is not thought to be really 
Euripides's and the latter is entirely comic, or rather a 
very coarse farce ; excellent, however, in its way, and the 
conception, of the characters not unlike that of Shakspeare 
in Caliban. I should never finish, if I were to let myself 
go upon Euripides. In two very material points, how- 
ever, he is certainly far excelled by Sophocles: 1st, in 
the introduction of proper subjects in the songs of the 
chorus ; and, 2dly, in the management of his plot. The 
extreme absurdity of the chorus, in Medea suffering her 
to kill her children, and of that in Phsedra letting her 
hang herself, without the least attempt to prevent it, has 
been often and justly ridiculed; but what signify faults, 
where there are such excessive beauties ? Pray write soon, 
and let me know, if you have read more of these plays, 
what you think of them. 

If you do not go to Dublin before my brother returns, 
you had better commission somebody to call at the Royal 
Hospital, for some books of which Mrs. H. Fox took the 
charge for you, but which, as she writes, she does not 
Icnow where to send. I think my brother's return a very 
bad symptom of the intentions of government v/ith regard 
to poor Ireland; but that is a subject as fruitful, though 
r?ot so pleasant, as that of Euripides. 

Your's, ever most truly, 

C. J. FOX. 

Sl Anne^s Hill^ Friday, 

P. S. When you have read the two farewell speeches 
of Medea and Alcestls to their children, I do not think 
you will say that Electra's is quite unrivalled, though 
most excellent undoubtedly it is. 



LETTER XIV^ 



Mr Dear Sir, . ^. ^ „ u . i, 

I inclose you a letter for Mr. G. Ponsonby, to whom 
also I mentioned you in a letter I wrote him a few days 
since, upon another subject. We are very happy, indeed, 
io hear so much better account of your health, than that 
which you gave me in your former letters. Now that you 
are settled in Dublin, and hard at it with the law, I ought 
not according to common notions, to answer your ques-- 
tions about iEschylus, &c. but I am of opinion, that the 
study of good authors, and especially poets, ought never 
to be intermitted by any man who is to speak or write for 
the public, or, indeed, who has any occasion to tax his 
imagination, whether it be for argument, for illustration, 
for ornament, for sentiment, or any other purpose. I said 
nothing of iEschylus, because I know but little of hina ; 
I read two of his plays, the Septem apud Theb*, and the 
Prometheus, at Oxford; of which I do not remember 
much, except that I liked the last far the best. I have 
since read the Eumenicles, in which there are, no doubt, 
most sublime passages ; but in general the figures are 
too forced and hard for my taste ; and then there is too 



3'2l 



much of the grand and terrific, and gigantic, without a 
mixture of any thing, either tender or pleasant, or elegant, 
which keeps the mind too much on the stretch. This 
never suits my taste ; and I feel the same objection to 
most parts of the Paradise Lost, though in that poem 
there are most splendid exceptions. Eve, Paradise, &c. I 
have heard that the Agamemnon, if you can conquer its 
obscurity, is the finest of all iEschylus's plays, and I will 
attempt it when I have a little time. I quite long to hear 
how you are captivated with Alcestis, for captivated, I 
am sure you will be. 

Mrs. Fox desires to be remembered kindly : we have 
been a great deal from home these last two months, twice 
at lord Robert's, and at Woburn, and Mr. Whitbread's ; 
we are no where, as I hope, to stay with little interrup- 
tion ; and very happy we are to be here quietly again 5 
though our parties were very pleasant ; and I think change 
of air at this time of the year is always good for the colds 
to which Mrs. Fox is so subject. 

I was just going to end without noticing Pindar ; I 
dare say the obscurities are chiefly owing to our want of 
means of making out the allusions ; his style is more full 
of allusions than that of any other poet, except, perhaps, 
Dante, who is on that account so difficult, and as I think 
on that account only. The fine passages in Pindar are 
equal to, if not beyond, any thing : but the want of in- 
terest in the subjects, and, if it is not blasphemy to say 
so, the excessive profusion of words, make him some- 
thing bordering upon tedious. There is a fire in the cele- 
brated passage in the 2d Olympick, which begins ^eipsc & 
s/J« g(pvec TToAAtf, that isquit eunequalledin any poem whatever ; 
and the sweetness in the preceding part, describing the 
happy islands, is in its way almost as good. Pray let us 
hear from you soon, that you are well, and happy ; if you 
read the Heraclidse of Euripides, pray tell me if you are 



325 

particularly struck by one passage in Demophoon's part s 
if you miss it, I will point it out to you. 

Your's sincerely, 

C. J. FOX. 

St. Anne's Hill^ Monday* 

P. S. Woodlarks are said to be very common in the 
west of England ; here we have a few, and but few. The 
books which you left were sent by my brother, but he not 
being able to find your direction, brought them back* 



^ 



LETTER XV 



My Dear Sir, 

I heard yesterday, for the first time, a report 
that you had been very unwell ; pray lose no time in writ- 
ing me a line, either to contradict the report, or to say that 
you are recovered. I know you will excuse my having 
been so long without writing, on the score of the constant 
business which I had in London, and which you know 
me enough to know is not very agreeable to my nature. 

I have now been here a little more than thtee weeksj 
and hope soon to get again to my Greek, and my History^ 
but hitherto have had too many visitants to have much 
leisure. I have read Iphigenia in Aulis since I last wrbte, 
and think much more highly of it than I did on the first 
reading. The scene where the quarrel and reconciliation 
between the brothers is, has always been blamed, on ac- 
count of the too quick change of mind in Menelaus ; but I 
like it very much, and there is something in the manner 
of it that puts me in mind of Brutus and Cassius, in 
Shakspeare. We have had no very good weather ; but 
this place has been in great beauty, greater, if possible, 
than ever. Is there ny chance of your coming to Eng- 
land ? If there is, you know we expect and insist that you 



327 

come directly hither. I hope that, with the exception of 
a few occasional visits of two or three days, I shall be 
here with little interruption, till the meeting of parliament. 
Mrs. Fox desires me to say every thing that is kind for 
her. She, too, says she has been too busy to write ; and the 
truth is, that the company we have had here has entirely 
taken up her time. Pray lose no time in writing. 



Su Anne^s Hill^ Tuesday, 



Your's ever affectionately, 
C. J. FOX. 



P. S. I am sure it will give you pleasure to hear that 
Grattan's success in the H. of C. was complete and ac- 
knowledged, even by those who had entertained great 
hopes of his failure. 

I do not know what interest your relations have in the 
county of Downe, nor what you have with them; but if 
their interest could be got in favour of Mr. Meade, I 
should be very happy ; if you should hear how the election 
is going on, I should be obliged to you if you would 
mention it. 



LETTER XVL 



My dear Sir, 

It gives Mrs. F. and me great pleasure to 
hear that you think you are getting better, and that, too, 
in spite of the weather, which if it has been with you as 
with us, has been by no means favourable to such a com- 
plaint as your's. The sooner you can come the better ; 
and I cannot help hoping that this air will do you good. 
Parts of the 1st, and stillmore of the 2nd book of the 
iEneid, are capital indeed; the description of the night 
sack of a town, being a subject not touched by Homer, 
hinders it from having that appearance of too close imita- 
tion which Virgil's other battles have ; and the details, 
Priam's death, Helen's appearance, Hector's in the dream, 
and many others, are enchanting. The proem, too, to 
Eneas's narration is perfection itself. The part about Sinon 
and Laocoon does not so much please me, though I have 
nothing to say against it. Perhaps it is too long, but what- 
ever be the cause, I feel it to be rather cold. As to your 
friend's heresy, I cannot much wonder at, or blame it, 
since I used to be of the same opinion myself; but I am 
now a convert ; and my chief reason is, that, though the 
detached parts of the -^neid appear to me to be equal to 



329 



any thing, the story and characters appear more faulty 
every time I read it. My chief objection (I mean that to 
the character of Eneas) is, of course, not so much felt 
in the three first books ; butj afterwards, he is always either 
insipid or odious, sometimes excites interest against him, 
and never for him. 

The events of the war, too, are not striking ; and Pal- 
las and Lausus, who most interest you^ are in effect ex- 
actly alike. But, in parts, I admire Virgil more and 
more every day, such as those I have alluded to in the 
2nd book ; the finding of Andromache in the third, every 
thing relating to Dido ; the 6th book ; the visit to Evan-* 
der, in the 8th; Nisus and Euryalus, Mezentius's death, 
and many others. In point of passion I think Dido equal, 
if not superior, to any thing in Homer, or Shakspeare, 
or Euripides ; for me, that is saying every thing. 

One thing which delights me in the Iliad and Odyssey, 
and of which there is nothing in Virgil, is the picture of 
manners, which seem to be so truly delineated. The 
times in which Homer lived undoubtedly gave him a great 
advantage in this respect ; since, from his nearness to the 
times of which he writes, what we always see to be inven- 
tion in Virgil, appears like the plain truth in Homer* 
Upon this principle, a friend of mine observed, that the 
characters in Shakspeare's historical plays always appear 
more real than those of his others. But exclusive of this 
advantage, Homer certainly attends to character more 
than his imitator. I hope your friend, with all his partial- 
ity, will not maintain that the simile in the 1st -£aeid, 
comparing Dido to Diana, is equal to that in the Odys- 
sey, comparing Narcissa to her, either in propriety of ap» 
plication, or in beauty of description. If there is an Ap- 
pollonius Rhodius where you are, pray look at Medea's 
speech, lib. iv. v. 365, and you will perceive, that even 
in Dido's finest speech, nee tibi diva parens^ i^c* he has 
imitated a good deal, and especially those expressive and 

2 T 



S30 

sudden turns, 7ieque te teneoy £ifc. but then he has made 
wonderful improvements, and, on the whole, it is, perhaps, 
the finest thing in all poetry. 

Now if you are not tired of all this criticism, it is not 
my fault. The bad weather has preserved a verdure here^ 
which makes it more beautiful than ever ; and Mrs. Fox 
is in nice good health, and so every thing goes well with 
me, which I am sure you will like to hear ', but I have 
not yet had a moment for history. I sent you some 
weeks ago, though I forgot to mention it in my letter, 
some books you had left in England, by a gentleman whose 
name, I think, is Croker. It was Rolleston who under- 
took to give them him, directed to you in Capel street*. 
I added to them a duplicate I had of Miller, on the Eng- 
lish constitution ; a book dedicated to me, and which is 
written on the best and soundest principles ; but I fear it 
is more instructive than amusing, as, though a very sensi^ 
hie man, he was not a lively one. 

Yours, very affectionately, 

C. J. FOX. 
St, Anne*s Hilly Wednesday. 

P. S. Even in the 1st book, Eneas says, " Sum pms 
Eneasjfama super cethera notus,^^ Can yo^ bear this t 



LETTER XVIL 



Paris, 21 Ventose, 12 Mars, 

ASSUREMENT, Monsieur, je ne cederai a personne, 
pas me me a mon fils, le plaisir de repondre aux temoign- 
ages de votre interet, qui nous sont bien precieux a tous. 
II n'est que trop vrai que M. de la Fayette a eprouve un 
efFroyable accident, il s'est casse Pos que I'on appelle Pos 
dufcemeer fracture. Autrefois inguerissable, une machine 
d'une admirable invention, donne depuis quelques annees, 
la certitude de n'etre pas estropie, apres cette fracture en 
se soumettant d'abord a la torture de ^extension qu'elle 
opere, et qui cause d'inexprimable douleurs,puis a la duree 
d'une gene cruelle pendant deux mois dans les entraves de 
cette machine, dont les points de pression, cause une des 
ecorchures que chaque jour rend plus profondes, sans qu'il 
soit possible de rien deranger pour les panser. 

La premiere epoque de ces supplices est passee, nous 
sommes, au 29eme jour de I'application de la machine, et 
il ne reste que des douleurs bien penibles, mais a present 
supportables, et qui apres avoir exerce, d'une maniere 
nouvelle son courage, exercice a present sa patience, I'un 
et Tautre sont superieures a ses souffrances, et cette con? 



332 



stance perseverante au milieu de ses maux soutient les 
forces de tout ce qui I'environne, dont vous jugez la dou- 
leur. Tous les details que je prends la liberie de vous 
donner, Monsieur, vous prouveront assez quelle confiance 
vous nous avez inspire dans votre interet pour notre cher 
malade. C'est avec un vive ssnsibilite qu'il en a recu 
I'expression, que contient votre bonne et amiable lettre, 
nous conservons tous le souvenir, et un souvenir bien re- 
connoissante, des momens que vous nous avez donner * 
La Grange, nous desirous bien de vous y revoir, tous nos 
enfans reunis aupres de leur pere s'unissent a nos vceux 
comme a tous les sentimens que vous avez droit d'inspirer, 
et aveclesquels j'ai I'honneur d'etre, Monsieur, votre tres 
humble et obeissante servante, 

NOAILLES LA FAYETTE^ 

Parhj 9, Rue Verte, M. 109o 



La sante de notre cher malade ne nous a donne Pinqui- 
etude d'aucune danger, et son ctat done nous avons la 
confiance bien fondee, qu'il ne resultera aucune suite 
funeste / apres 70 jours environ il doit essayer de marcher, 
mais il faudra au moins 4 ou 5 mois pour etre fermcf sur 
jambes* 

Mr» Trctter^ Ireland- 



LETTER XVIII. 



La Grange^ 1 5th Vendemiaire^ 1802, 

My Dear Sir, 

I affectionately thank you for your kind letter, 
and the opportunity you give me to express how happy I 
have been in the pleasure of your company at La Grange. 
I hope our acquaintance has been productive of mutual 
lasting friendship } and I wish it too much not to have 
been sensible of the reciprocity of your sentiments in my 
behalf. 

Your correspondence, my dear sir, will be particularly 
agreeable. My wife and family request their acknowledg- 
ments, and best compliments, to be presented to you. We 
shall ever be anxious to hear of your welfare, and much 
gratified by the expectation to receive you before long in 
those rural retirements, to which you have been pleased to 
feel a partiality. 

I am, with the truest sentiments of esteem and affection, 
my dear sir, 

Yours, 

LA FAYETTE. 

Mr. Trotter. 



LETTER XIX. 



La Grange^ 1 PrairiaJ^ An* la» 
General, 

Lorsq'un homme penetre de la reconnoissance 
qu'il vous doit, et trop sensible a la gloire pour ne pas 
aimer la votre, a mis des restrictions, a son suffrage, elles 
sont d'autant moins suspectes que personne ne jouira plus 
que lui de vous voir premier magistirat a vie d'une repub- 
iique libre. Le 18 Brumaire a sauve la France, et je me 
sentis rappelle par les professions liberates auxquelles vous 
avez attache votre honneur ; on vit dans la pouvoir con- 
sulaire cette dictature reparatrice, qui sous les auspices de 
votre genie a fait de si grandes choses, moins grandes, ce- 
pendant, que sera la restauration de la liberie. II est im- 
possible que vous, general, le premier dans cette ordre des 
hommes, qui pour se comparer et se placer, embrassant 
tous les siecles, vouliez qu'une telle revolution, tant de 
victoires et de sang, de douleur et de .prodiges, n'aient 
pour le monde et pour vous d' autre ^resultat qu'un regime 
arbitraire. Le peuple Francois a trop connu ses droit^s 
pour les avoir oublies sans retour, mais peutetre est ilplus 
en etat aujourd'hui, que dans son effervescence de les re» 
couvrir utilement, et vous par le force de votre caractere, 



335 



et de la confiance publique, par la superiorite de vos talens, 
de votre existence, de votre fortune, pouvez, in retablissent 
la liberte, maitriser tous les dangers, rassurer toutes les 
inquietudes. Je n*ai done que des motifs patriotiques et 
personel pour vous souhaiter dans ce compliment de votre 
gloire une magistrature permanente* Mais il convient 
aux principes, aux engagemants, aux actions de ma vie 
entiere d'attendre pour lui donner ma voix qu'elle ait ete 
fondee, sur des bases dignes de la nation et de vous. 

J'espere que vous reconnoitrez ici, general, comme vous 
I'avez deja fait, qu'a la perseverance de mes opinions po.- 
litiques se joignent de vceux sincere pour votre personne, 
€t un sentiment profond de mes obligations envers vous. 

Salut et respect, 

^ LA FAYETTE, 

N. P. Sera t-il consul a vie. Je ne puis voter une 
telle magistrature jusqu'a ce que la liberte politique soit 
sufEsament garantie, alors je donne ma voix pour N. B. 



y/ 













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